


The Swan-Feather Cloak

by ArtjuiceRP



Series: The Swan-Feather Cloak [1]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-26
Updated: 2014-05-03
Packaged: 2018-01-10 02:56:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 14
Words: 51,532
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1153932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ArtjuiceRP/pseuds/ArtjuiceRP
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After breaking a curse cast by Rumplestiltskin, Princess Emma runs away from the palace in search of vengeance. Hiding her face under her cloak made of swan-feathers, she finds her way onto a pirate ship with a Captain that has a similar mission to her. Captain Swan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Finally starting a new story! I'm not sure about how regular the updates will be as I'm pretty busy at university. It's my first Once Upon A Time story, but I hope you all enjoy it. It will, eventually, be Captain Swan and it's based on quite a few different fairy tales. If all goes to plan, it should be pretty long. Most chapters should be longer than this.
> 
> Also, if anyone is interested in being a beta-reader, I'd love that!
> 
> -ArtjuiceRP

**Prologue**

"Well, dearie, I wasn't expecting this!"

The Princess' hand froze in mid-air, just centimetres from her son's forehead, and she turned to face the speaker. "And I wasn't expecting you." she bit out, pushing herself onto her feet and meeting his gaze. "People who want an audience with the royal family normally make appointments."

"I only want an audience with you." The Dark One giggled, the noise making the Princess shudder. "And if I were you, I wouldn't be talking about normal. It's not  _normal_  for unwed Princesses to have children, is it, Emma?"

Seeing his eyes dart towards the sleeping boy, Emma took a step closer to the bed, her body blocking the view of her son's face. "Why are you here?"

"To offer you a deal." he answered with a flourish of his hands. "Why else?"

"I don't need a deal so you might as well leave us all alone." Emma stated, clenching her fists and glancing around for anything she could use as a weapon. "Our family swore not to deal with you ever again, and I'm not going to change that for some deal I don't even want."

"Oh, I'm making this deal no matter what you say. And if I were you, I wouldn't try and alert anyone. We don't need any unnecessary casualties." Rumplestiltskin sung, taking a few steps towards the bed. "But of course I will tell you what the deal is. I will stop this never-ending war with the Evil Queen and, in return, I will get your son."

Emma's eyes widened, one hand falling lightly onto her boys shoulder. "Why?" she stammered, her free hand clenching the fabric of the dress.

"No need to bother with the whys. If that's your only question, then I guess you agree to my offer."

"I don't agree to your offer." Emma snarled. "Last time I checked, you weren't exactly on my family's side. Why would you offer your help now?"

"Well, there is only one thing I truly want, dearie." The Dark One chanted, his eyes locking on the sleeping child. "And seeing as there doesn't seem to be a way for me to have that, I have decided to settle for second best."

"And that's Henry, is it?"

"Not many people know that I had a son." Rumplestiltskin sang, raising a finger as a warning for Emma to stay quiet. "The people who knew him have been dead for a very long time. I've been looking for him for just as long. I finally found a way to track him down. A way that is probably much too complex for you to understand. All you need to know is that is involves blood. It should have directed me to him, my only blood relation. Instead, it leads me here. Do you have any idea why that would happen?"

Emma rolled her eyes. "Because it's faulty."

"Don't try to explain it." Rumplestiltskin warned, stepping close and placing a finger on the tip of her nose, ignoring how Emma tried to step away. "I know exactly why that would happen. Only one location can be shown, and with no family in this world, I would be able to see where he was, no matter what realm. But instead, I was told that he was here. Right here. That means, dearie, that your little prince, well, he's related to me. My grandson, I'd wager. No one knows who his father is, after all."

"Baelfire?" Emma breathed, entranced by the imps tale. "Baelfire was your son?"

"And so my theory is proven true!" Rumplestiltskin laughed, flicking his hand and watching as Emma flew away from her son's side. "And now, I want the last remaining link to my son. At least until I can search once again."

"You can't just take him!" Emma insisted, struggling to get closer to her son. "And I will not let you have him."

"Dearie, I've already decided on the deal." Rumplestiltskin said, his voice lowering to a more threatening tone. "And you will take it. The war has been on for twenty-eight years. Surely it is a worthy cause, your son in exchange for the end of all the fighting. But don't worry. I'll make it easier for you. You won't even remember you had him. And neither will anyone else."

He finally fell silent, his attention leaving Emma and focusing on Henry, his golden hand resting on Henry's shoulder, exactly where Emma's hand had been. Free from what had been holding her back, Emma rushed at him, the imp using his free hand to grab her. Emma opened her mouth to shout out, to finally wake Henry, but with a last giggle from the Dark One, everything went black.


	2. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoy this chapter! Again, I'm not sure when the next update will be. I'm still looking for a beta-reader, if anyone is interested!
> 
> -ArtjuiceRP

** Chapter 1 **

They never went in the West Wing of the Castle. Emma remembered asking about it as she grew up, her parents always telling her that the West Wing would be hers when she was older. As she grew up, she had gathered that by older, they meant ‘when she had a family of her own’.

There were moments though, when she passed by the entrance to the wing, that her mind would feel fuzzy and she would be desperate to go inside, feeling as if she _had_ been in there before. It was the same feeling she got when she was in her bed chambers, the feeling that something was wrong, that her room was impersonal and unlived in, as if she really hadn’t slept in there for a very long time.

That feeling, the uneasiness that she normally felt when someone lied to her, was currently all she could focus on, her gaze locked on the closed doors into the West Wing.

“Emma, honey, are you even listening to me?”

Emma jolted back to attention, sending a sheepish look towards her mother. “Of course I am, mom.” She replied, turning her back on the door and raising an eyebrow expectantly. “We’re supposed to be meeting the seamstress.  I was just distracted, that’s all.”

Snow White looked slightly confused, reaching out to gently take her daughter by the arm and directed her away from the wing. “You’ll be going in there soon.” Snow enthused, leading Emma down the hall. “We want you to feel like you’re living somewhere new, somewhere you can have your own family. That’s why we’ve kept the doors closed for so long.”

There was that feeling again. Emma stared at her mother, trying to figure it out. Most of it rang true – the fact that she wouldn’t be allowed in until she had her own family, for instance – but, as soon as her mother had mentioned that they had kept the doors closed, her stomach had turned and she just _knew_ that something wasn’t right.

Although, her lie detector had been wrong before and with Emma’s upcoming wedding, her mother’s emotions were very unstable. After all, Emma had been refusing to get married since she turned eighteen. Her adamant refusal had been helped by her lack of suitors, a fact that had often confused her parents. They still hoped that she would meet her true love, but as she got older and the kingdom grew more desperate for her to marry, her parents had become less interested in waiting.

“I thought I was supposed to be meeting my fiancé today.” Emma mentioned, frowning at the word ‘fiancé’. “Has the Evil Queen not sent him here?”

“You really shouldn’t call her the Evil Queen anymore.” Snow said, sighing, and avoiding the question. “You agreed to the deal, after all.”

“Doesn’t mean she’s not evil.” Emma ground out, regretting her decision to marry. “How did she even manage to rule her own country? You banished her from here, remember?”

Emma’s mother sighed once again but didn’t say a word. Ever since Regina’s banishment, the Queen had steadily taken control of the lands near the border of the kingdom, building up her own army and castle and then waging war against her parents. The war had lasted for almost three decades, and it had been a great surprise when Regina had suggested a way to end the war.

“If she’s willing to stop fighting, we should give her a chance.” Snow said, halting her steps and turning to stare at her daughter. “And we consulted you about her offer. You agreed. You marry her general and then the two lands work together. I never have to see Regina again; she never has to see me. You will become the ambassador of our land, working with us and with Regina to ensure the peace continues. You agreed to this.”

Emma bit her lip. Hearing her mother state it so bluntly had reminded her of why she had agreed to such a deal. Stopping the war was worth it, even if marriage was something she had stopped considering many years ago. “I suppose. Unless she is just doing this so that you can watch your daughter suffer through an unhappy marriage, never able to marry the man she loves.”

Snow frowned. “You don’t have a man you love.” she pointed out, ignoring how her daughter’s expression hardened. “And you don’t know the man yet. I do. He may work for Regina, but I knew him. Without him, you wouldn’t be alive. I wouldn’t be alive. You should give him a chance. For all you know, you could be about to meet your true love.”

Emma snorted, disregarding her mother’s eye roll and starting down the corridor once again. “I’ll keep that in mind. But don’t expect some sort of magical love at first sight kind of thing. That doesn’t exist. Now, do we want to be late for the seamstress?”

~~~*~~~

Graham was much nicer than Emma had expected. Sure, he had the occasional moments where he would suddenly stop paying attention to anything, his eyes dimming and focussing on the horizon, but whenever he shook himself back to attention, he was good company.

Emma had been expecting worse. With her parents’ permission, the seamstress had begun making a few hunting outfits in addition to her wedding dress, which Emma planned to wear to accompany Graham when he went hunting. He had offered to take her along, an offer which had greatly intrigued her.

Unlike most huntsmen, however, Graham only killed what he needed. With his new role as fiancé to the princess and soon-to-be ambassador for Regina’s country, he was never in need of food. Instead, he retreated to woods to practise his tracking and camouflage skills, something he had promised to teach Emma.

It was this attitude towards the lives of animals that had persuaded Emma to give him a chance, helped along slightly by his good looks and accent. When her mother had finally revealed how Graham had let her go despite Regina’s orders, Emma decided to get to know him. Everything she knew about him told her that he had a good heart, and with no choice but to marry him, she thought it was best to see if there was any chance she could grow to love him.

Despite their growing camaraderie, there was something missing. Every morning, Emma woke up and wandered, as if by habit, to the entrance to the west wing. She would stop at the doors, knowing there was nothing there, but the empty feeling in her chest would worsen throughout the day. Snow could not explain the trips to the west wing, but was insistent that what Emma was missing was true love.

Emma doubted the theory. She hadn’t ever searched for true love and she had never missed it. Even though she was engaged, she doubted that her new status would have suddenly spurred her heart into longing for true love.  It was something else that was missing.

Despite this, she continued to spend her days splitting time between her family, Graham and the seamstress. After being made three hunting outfits, the seamstress had refused to make any more, stating that all her attention should be on the wedding dress. Emma had little interest in this, but she still spent many hours being poked and prodded by the woman as the dress was adjusted.

A week before her wedding, she was once again standing in the large white dress, wincing as the seamstress cinched the waist tightly. When there was knock on the door, Emma was glad to halt the seamstress’ work and call out. “Come in.”

“I’m not supposed to see you in your dress before the wedding.” the knocker replied, and as soon as she heard the lilt to his voice, she realised it was Graham. “I wanted to know if you had time to try some archery practise later. The Queen told me you already had some training.”

That was definitely preferable to a dress-fitting. With a nod at the seamstress, Emma began to wriggle her way out of the dress, only succeeding once the seamstress had helped her. “I suppose you will need me back tomorrow?” she asked as she pulled on one of her old training outfits. When she saw the seamstress’ nod, she grimaced and then left the room.

To her surprise, Graham was still waiting for her in the hall. She had expected him to have left, to have gone to the archery range, but he was leaning against the wall, his bow clutched in her hand.

“You didn’t have to wait.” Emma told him, walking straight past him and hearing him stand up and follow her. “But, thank you.”

Graham said nothing, a comfortable silence engulfing them as they strode through the palace. She avoided looking at him, her gaze focussed on the many tapestries and paintings lining the palace walls. It was only when they reached the range that Graham spoke up. “How often do you practice?”

She raised an eyebrow. It seemed much more likely that he would train her than get to know her, and she suddenly felt an urge to talk with him. Emma wasn’t a particularly open person, but she was willing to try. “I can shoot an arrow, Graham.” she answered with a slight laugh. “I’m not interested in target practice right now.”

Graham frowned, but lowered his bow down to the ground with a nod. “You want to talk then? What about?”

Emma shrugged. “My mother said she knew you, that you saved her life.” she remembered, giving him an appraising look. She had brushed that fact aside soon after hearing it, but now she had remembered, she was surprised at how young he looked. “But you work for Regina. That can’t have been a pleasant meeting.”

“I’m surprised you don’t know the entire story.” Graham stated, making eye contact with her. “I was charged with killing your mother. I think you know how that ended.”

She wasn’t expecting the story to be that simple, and she imagined there was more to it than what Graham was willing to share. After all, she doubted Regina would ignore a failure like that. “I suppose I should thank you for my existence, then.” she teased, surprised at the slight blush that coloured his cheeks and how he turned away from her.

“There was a reason I wanted to speak to you today.” Graham said, finally looking away from the archery equipment and stepping closer to her, his eyes earnest. “I know we don’t really know each other, and I know you didn’t choose to marry me for any reason other than to stop the war, but this is still your wedding and I would like everything to be done properly.”

Emma blinked in astonishment and then waved a hand in dismissal. “Don’t worry about it, Graham.” she told him, assessing his nervous movements and close proximity. “It’s already much better than I imagined it. You are not what I was expecting.”

He chuckled and shifted even closer.  At this proximity, she could see a few grey hairs dotted through his beard and hair, and, for the first time, it sunk in that she was marrying a man much closer to her mother’s age than her own. “As I was saying,” he continued, reaching into a small bag dangling from his belt. “I want this to be done properly. I will leave it up to you to decide if you ever want to try an actual relationship, but I want you to have this ring.”

Emma’s eyes flicked down to see that Graham was clutching a golden ring, a small ruby inset in the centre. It was very simple design, a ring that Emma was likely to have picked herself, and for the first time since meeting the huntsman, she beamed at him. “It’s lovely.” she muttered, allowing him to slowly slip it onto her finger. “You really didn’t have to get me a ring though.”

“As I said, I wanted to.”

Graham’s fingers were still resting lightly on her hand and when Emma saw the tender look in his eyes, she realised that he really did want to try and make the best of the situation they’d both been forced into.

Realising that they had been standing so close for a few minutes, Emma cleared her throat and stepped away, her eyes locked on Graham’s hand as it fell back to his side. “So, archery?” she suggested, turning to pick up her bow before standing directly in front of one of the many targets. Graham didn’t move, so Emma decided to start shooting arrows by herself, her first shot landing just to the right of the centre of the target.

She definitely preferred swords, she thought, her next arrow clipping the side of the target and falling to the ground. No matter how well she thought she had aimed, her shots varied wildly.

“You don’t anchor yourself properly.” she heard and she turned to face Graham, frowning slightly at his comment. “You should draw the string back to same place every time. You don’t.”

Emma raised an eyebrow. Her mother had never commented on her archery skills and Snow White was one of the best archers she knew. She was about to protest, but she remembered how often she missed the target, and decided to let Graham continue.

“You want to find a reference point that you can find every single time you draw your bow.” he instructed, moving to stand behind her. “May I?”

Emma nodded, her focus on the sport and not his closeness. She stared at the target as he stood behind her, one of his hands wrapping around hers and keeping her grip firm on the bow. She adjusted her stance as he stood behind her, his remaining hand gently sliding up her arm and adjusting where she was holding the string, pulling her hand back slightly so her fingers were resting against the centre of her chin.

“You want to always bring it back to here.” he stated, his breath warm against her ear. “Make sure you always draw the string back to the same place.”

“I’ve got it.” Emma announced, her face hardening in determination. As she aimed at the target, Graham drew his hands away from her but stayed close behind her, his gaze locked on her stance.

As she concentrated, everything around her seemed to disappear, her focus entirely on the target in front of her. With one final exhale, she released her fingers and the arrow shot away from her, thumping neatly to the left of her first shot, just inside the bull’s-eye.

“Like I said, I’ve got it.” she repeated with a grin, lowering the bow down and turning to face Graham. He was smiling appreciatively at her, his chest only inches from her own. Emma bit her lip as she considered him. Maybe they could have something together. She had enjoyed their short time spent together and she could still feel the trail his fingers left on her arm, feel his gaze locked on her.

He had not stepped away during her moment of thought and it was this that finally convinced Emma to lift her face closer to his, her free hand reaching to grip his collar and pull him down towards her. When their lips were almost touching, when Emma could feel each of Graham’s breaths against her lips, he moved. At first, Emma thought he was going to finally press his lips against hers, but his slight shift closer seemed to be more of fidget than a move of intent. His hand reached up to grab hers and move it away from his collar and Emma rocked back onto her heels, her eyebrows furrowing at his rejection.

“Not now.” he told her, looking down at his feet. “Maybe soon.”

She was going to protest, to tell him that he was the one who had suggested the possibility of a relationship in the first place, but before she could process anything, he had strode away. Blinking, she stomped over to the archery rack and hung her bow up with a loud clatter.

She didn’t understand him. He had given her an engagement ring, stood behind her with his fingers dancing up her arms as she drew her bow, but he was the one who had stepped away, who had left her alone in the courtyard.

Emma twisted the ring around her finger, contemplating removing it and handing it back to him. With a sigh, her hands dropped to her side. She couldn’t _not_ marry him, and he had given her the ring because he thought she deserved it, even though he didn’t need to. Maybe she was destined to spend her life without true love, but if that was the case, she still wanted to be with a friend. Giving the ring back would stop that from happening, and she was certain that she could be great friends with Graham, if he gave her the chance. After today, though, Emma was uncertain she would ever allow herself to actually be with him.

All Emma wanted was a man who wouldn’t walk away.

~~~*~~~

“I need to talk with you.”

Emma frowned, her arms raised above her head as the seamstress made some final adjustments to her wedding dress. She was getting married the following day and all she felt was a sense of resignation. She had expected to feel nervous, but she knew that it was something she was doing solely for the kingdom. Something she had to do.

It was Graham speaking, the first time he had willingly spoken to her since their archery practice. He had come uninvited into the room and the seamstress had stood protectively in front of her, trying to stop Graham from seeing her in her wedding dress before the wedding. It seemed that he no longer cared about superstition, his gaze locked on her outfit.

“What about?” she asked, lowering her arms and gesturing for the seamstress to leave them alone. She seemed reluctant, but left the room, shooting curious glances between Emma and the huntsman.

“I wanted to apologise.” he began, staying by the door. Emma wondered if he didn’t want to come near her, as if her attempt at a kiss was so unforgivable that he didn’t want to stand near her. “I know I said that maybe we could try a relationship, but now I realise I shouldn’t have said that. I don’t want to give you false hope.”

Emma shrugged. “Don’t worry, Graham. After last week, I wasn’t hoping for that.”

“You don’t understand.” he said, his voice pained. “I want us to have a real relationship. I want to love you. I wish I could love you.”

“This isn’t a marriage for love, Graham.” Emma muttered, her voice thick. “You don’t need to love me. You’ve already made it clear that that is not going to happen. You didn’t need to come and tell me this.”

“I don’t feel anything, Emma.” he protested, his eyes wide and pleading. “Not just for you. I think I’m incapable of feeling anything. You made me want to try, but even after the time we spent together, I feel nothing.”

“What sort of person feels nothing?” Emma questioned, stepping towards him. “Surely, you must feel something.”

Graham shook his head. “I’m sorry, Emma. I’m sorry you have to marry me.”

“There you go. You’re feeling sorry!” Emma yelled, his words cutting her more than she would have liked. “That’s a feeling. You can feel. You just don’t feel anything for me. Don’t sugar-coat it. I’m used to it by now. Why else do you think I’m twenty-eight and still unmarried?”

Graham reached towards her, as if to comfort her, but Emma brushed past him and strode out into the corridor. Why would Graham do that? He didn’t need to tell her that he felt nothing for her. She had guessed that already.

Seeing her seamstress returning, Emma took a deep breath and turned on her heel, striding away from the room and attempting to compose herself. She _had_ hoped that Graham would be her friend, would care about her, but instead he had announced his lack of any feeling towards her. She was marrying him tomorrow, she couldn’t change that!

She halted, rubbing her hand across her eyes and grimacing when she heard both the seamstress and Graham calling for her. Without even looking where she was going, she swung open the door in front of her and stepped through it, leaning against the door once it had shut.

Emma would just have to accept it. She wasn’t meant for true love. She had learnt long ago that she was someone that only her parents could love. She had heard the messages sent by foreign princes, declining invitations to her balls, declining opportunities to see her, and her last hope, despite her protestations to her mother, had been placed in this arranged marriage. Graham had waltzed in to her dress fitting and dashed them all with one sentence.

Taking a deep breath, she looked up, frowning at the unfamiliar corridor she found herself in. This must be the West Wing. The part of the palace where she was going to live, where she was supposed to start a family of her own. Curious now, Emma pushed herself away from the wall and began to explore. She opened every door and peered inside each room. The rooms didn’t look as if they had been unused for decades. Many of them looked lived in, with small trinkets and drawings decorating the walls, most things perfectly to her tastes. The second-to-last door she checked contained a large four-poster bed, clothes scattered on a large chaise-longue, the blankets unmade. Looking at it, the room decorated as she would have wanted it, she felt another twinge in her stomach, that feeling that someone had been lying.

Biting her lip, Emma slammed the door shut and peered cautiously at the final doorway. This entire wing seemed wrong and she was anxious about seeing what was behind the final door. Perhaps another room that looked like it had been suddenly abandoned?

Deciding that she needed to see, Emma opened the door, her eyes widening at what she saw inside. The room was decorated with dark blue wallpaper, the bed unmade, and the floor covered with toys. It was a child’s room, that much she was certain of, and seeing it made her heart throb, as if this was the reason she felt like something was missing. She stepped inside, picking up a small sailor figure and placing at the side by a few model ships.

She knew this room. Even though she was certain she had never been there before, everything felt familiar. She walked over to the bed and sat down, running her fingers over the soft knitted blanket. This looked like her mother’s work, but why would her mother have knitted a blanket for an empty children’s room? At that thought, she drew her fingers back, reaching instead to examine a small silver snuff box on the bedside table.

As if it was instinct, Emma’s fingers found the small clasp and flicked the box opening, a soft lullaby ringing through the air. Emma glanced down at it, unsurprised by the fact it was a music box, the tune calming her down and clearing her mind.

At the final, piercing note, the box slipped out of her hand and Emma collapsed to her knees, her eyes wide in shock.

She remembered everything.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Rumplestiltskin had taken Henry.

Her chest felt tight, each breath sounding strangled. Rumplestiltskin had taken her son and she had just forgotten that he ever existed. She had spent months moping over getting married and having to spend the rest of her life with Graham, unaware that her son was spending all of _his_ time with the Dark One.

Forcing herself back to her feet, Emma stood still for a moment, her head spinning with the sudden return of eleven years of memories. No wonder she had felt like something was missing. Of course something was missing!

Unable to cope with his dark, empty room, Emma stumbled out of the door and into what she now knew was her own room, the room she had lived in for the past decade. No wonder so much of her life had not made any sense to her. With Henry removed from her life, there had been no explanation for the lack of the suitors and her disinterest in marriage. Without her memories, she hadn’t understood the constant distrust that she had carried since Henry’s father had left her, hadn’t realised that the true reason there had been so few suitors was because of the child she had borne out of wedlock.

 She couldn’t feel the pure happiness she always felt when she was with her son; that feeling that overruled everything else.

And now that she remembered, she was going to get him back.

Emma couldn’t think how to do that. The only thing running through her head was that Henry had been taken. She couldn’t think of an actual plan, not when she was like this, and she needed help. Quickly, she wriggled out of her, now wrinkled, wedding dress and put on the first dress she picked from the wardrobe, her old clothes still neatly hung up.

Wedding dress hanging from her arms, she ran out the wing, carelessly shoving the dress on the panicked-looking seamstress and then brushed past Graham. If anyone could help, it would be her parents.

She didn’t bother to knock on their door, bursting into their room and ignoring the slam of the door when it hit the wall.

“Emma, what’s wrong?” asked her father, standing up and striding towards her, a concerned expression on his face. “What’s happened?”

“Henry’s gone.” she breathed, her face crumpling and her knees giving away once more. David caught her in his arms, sending an alarmed look to his wife.

Snow soon joined them, her hand resting gently on Emma’s head as if testing for a fever. “What do you mean?”

“Henry!” Emma insisted, trying to stand up straight but unable to escape her father’s grip. “He’s not here!”

Emma caught sight of her mother’s expression. Snow seemed torn between confusion and excitement and Emma didn’t understand why either emotion should be on her face. “I think she’s finally panicking about the wedding!” Snow explained, her hand now moving to comfortingly stroke Emma’s shoulder. “And now she’s panicking about all the small details.”

David seemed unconvinced, but released his hold on Emma and helped her stand up. “Are you sure that’s it, Snow?”

Snow shrugged, as if she couldn’t think of any other explanation. “Prince Henry is arriving tomorrow.” She explained, ignoring Emma’s puzzled look. “He’s arriving early in the morning and he will be representing Queen Regina at your wedding. It seems that the Queen herself is unable to attend. I never told you this as you never seemed concerned with the details of your wedding.”

“Prince Henry?” Emma repeated, pushing her mother away when she realised the truth. No one else remembered. For some reason, and Emma had no idea why, she was the only one who knew what had happened. “Regina’s father?”

“Who else?”

Emma didn’t have time to explain. Forcing a relieved expression onto her face, she nodded at her mother. “I’m sorry. I just… it finally sank in that I’m getting married tomorrow. I think I need to lie down.”

Her mother nodded sympathetically and walked alongside Emma as she headed to the door. “Graham’s a good man, Emma. Everything will be alright.”

Emma swallowed at her mother’s words, waiting for Snow to leave her side before darting back to her current room.

It looked like she would be going after Henry alone.

Grabbing a leather sack from the bottom of her wardrobe, she threw in her newest hunting outfits and then quickly put on a pair of her older leggings and comfortably worn sporting boots, making sure they were hidden under the skirt of her dress. She didn’t want to be held back by curious staff members and visiting royalty, asking her why she was preparing to leave the palace so close to her own wedding.

She could get food once she was outside the palace walls, and she could easily steal some clothes to make herself less conspicuous. The fact that everyone thought Henry didn’t exist meant that they would come searching for her once they knew she was gone, as she had no other reason to explain her sudden disappearance. From her conversation with her parents, her mother would guess she had run off due to nerves and the guards would be sent to find her. She would need to be as unrecognisable as possible.

Bag slung over her shoulder, Emma was about to leave the room when she noticed a large black box lying on her bed, a red card tucked into the black ribbon tying the box closed. Despite her urgency, curiosity overcame her and she gingerly picked up the card.

_A gift of good faith for the bride._

Eyebrows furrowed, Emma undid the black bow and lifted the lid away, the gift inside wrapped in black tissue paper. Even more intrigued, she ripped the paper apart, gasping in awe when she saw what was in the box.

Unable to stop herself, Emma lifted the gift from its wrapping and held it in the air, her eyes wide. It was a cloak, its hem just touching the ground and its hood large enough to conceal her face. It was a cloak made to completely obscure the wearer’s features from view.

But the most amazing thing about the cloak was the fact that it was made entirely out of swan-feathers. It was pure white, the feathers glistening slightly when the light struck the cloak at a certain angle.

It was the most beautiful piece of clothing Emma had ever seen.

Without a moment’s thought, the cloak was carefully folded up and placed in the sack with the rest of her things, Emma unable to even consider leaving it behind.

With a final glance at her room, Emma tucked the sack over her shoulder and left the room. She only had one more thing to collect before she left. Henry’s music box.

~~~*~~~

Emma hadn’t thought her plan through. Even though she was dressed in her normal regalia, the sack over her shoulder seemed suspicious enough to warrant questions from every person she came across on her trip out the castle. At this rate, she would never manage to get outside of the town walls before the guards found her and accompanied her back to the castle and there was a certain distance when her excuse of ‘needing fresh air’ would become obviously false.

Deciding that it would be best to borrow some clothes instead of wearing her high-quality and recognisable hunting clothes, Emma walked through the shadows of the building to a small wood-shop. She knew who lived there and she knew they wouldn’t mind her borrowing a few articles of clothing, but she couldn’t help but hope that they weren’t in. The less they knew the better.

She nudged the door gently, a smile briefly crossing her face when she realised the door was locked. It may not be princess-like, but Emma knew how to get into places she wasn’t meant to visit. She squeezed the golden charm hanging on her necklace, briefly remembering how warm hands had helped teach her how to use her thin hairgrips to open any lock, the memory causing her expression to harden and the charm to fall from her grip.

She hadn’t thought of that in a long time. She had never needed to.

Obstinately ignoring the memories, Emma quickly selected a hairpin and snapped it half. Using the two pieces, she gently wiggled the pick until she heard a quiet click. With another push on door, it swung open and she gingerly stepped inside.

Not wanting to be there long, Emma rushed over to the wardrobe and opened it, selecting a shirt and a belt and then looking for somewhere to change, halting when she heard a familiar voice.

“Princess Emma?” She tightened her grip on the clothes, turning to face the man. “How did you get in here?”

“You left the door unlocked.” she answered with a shrug, following the man’s gaze to the shirt she was holding. “I thought you were in and I wanted to ask a favour. It’s been awhile, Pinocchio.”

“I’m guessing the favour was borrowing my shirt?” Pinocchio asked, frowning up at her.

Emma nodded, trying to think of explanation for such a request. As close as she and Pinocchio had been, she couldn’t tell him the truth. If anyone asked him if he’d seen her and where she was going, he would not lie.

“I snuck out the palace.” she announced carefully, ignoring Pinocchio’s smirk. It appeared he had guessed that much. “I needed some time alone. Time to think before…”

“The wedding?” finished Pinocchio.

Emma nodded. “It was only after I left the palace that I realised I wasn’t really dressed for the outdoors.” She stated, laughing nervously. “I thought you wouldn’t mind lending me some clothes.”

“It’s not appropriate.” Pinocchio protested weakly, knowing that there wasn’t much he could say to the princess to dissuade her.

“Pinocchio, when have I ever cared about what was appropriate?” she joked, remembering only after she saw his expression that he too no longer remembered Henry. “Now I just have to change and I’ll be out of your way.”

Before Pinocchio could say anymore, Emma stepped behind a wooden screen and pulled off her dress, hanging it over the screen. She heard Pinocchio swallow and then the door slam, Pinocchio giving her privacy to change. It didn’t take long, Emma quickly slipping the loose shirt over her shoulders and using the belt to tie it tightly around her waist. As a last precaution, she ripped a strip from her dress, intending to use it to cover her hair once she had left Pinocchio’s home.

Stuffing the remains of her dress into the sack, she followed Pinocchio outside and sent him a grateful smile. “I guess you’ll be there tomorrow.” she said warily, ignoring his suspicious look.

Pinocchio nodded. “I will. I doubt I’ll be sitting near the front, but I’ll be there.” he answered, cautiously reaching a hand out to grip her arm. “I was starting to worry that you’d never marry.” he joked, a friendly grin crossing his face. “And I’m happy that I’ll be there to see it.”

“Well, I was always going to invite you.” Emma answered, unable to stop her voice wavering. Pinocchio’s frown deepened, a worried look entering his eyes. She couldn’t hold the eye contact, stepping away from his grip and looking away. “Thank you for the clothes.”

Before Pinocchio could reply, Emma strode away, her pace increasing as she got further and further away from him. Borrowing his clothes had been a bad idea. They had been friends for long so she was certain that Pinocchio knew that she hadn’t been at all truthful. Despite his penchant for honesty, though, she knew he would give her some time before he approached anyone with his suspicions. Still, she would have to be even more careful.

She kept to the shadows until she was outside the town walls, relieved when she finally reached the forest. Here, there were more places to hide, more ways for her to elude the guards. Now that she had the chance, Emma quickly found a tree to lean against. She needed more of a plan. She had left the palace impulsively, determined to regain her son, but now she had some doubts. As much as she wanted Henry back with her, if she didn’t marry Graham then Regina was sure to restart the war with her parents. However, Henry had already been with Rumplestiltskin for too long. Knowing Henry, he would have held onto the hope that she would come after him, and the longer she stayed away, the more diminished that hope would become. She refused to –couldn’t - let him lose hope altogether.

Besides, she had absolutely no idea where to find the Dark One. As far as she knew, it could take her months to even get a lead on where he was living, and she wasn’t going to hear anything when she was forced to spend her time in the celebrations that would follow her wedding.

No, it was best that she leave today. What she needed to do was to get down to the port and hide there, listening out for news of the Dark One. That was where most news was relayed, news from all corners of the realm, and where she was most likely to hear anything.

The problem was with the guards. Her face was recognisable, despite her unremarkable clothing, and she knew if any guard got close enough, then they would be sure to realise who she was.

At that thought, Emma reached her hands down to coat her fingers with mud, reluctantly spreading the dirt across any revealed skin. Soon, her face was dry, the dirt greying her pale skin and cracking slightly across her fingers. If anyone stood near to her, within speaking distance, they would still be able to tell who she was, but Emma would not let that happen. At least now, she had hope that no one would recognise her from a distance.

Finally, using the red strip she had ripped from her dress, she piled her hair on her head and wrapped the cloth around it as a bandana, a single strand of her long, blonde hair escaping and tickling her cheek.

Emma was certain she no longer looked like a princess.

~~~*~~~

The docks were different. Emma had only visited the port on official business, and they clearly tried to keep the docks quiet and clean whenever royalty was expected. Now, it was bustling with energy. There were traders setting up small stalls near the ships, and a vast crowd of sailors and pirates alike going between the various taverns lining the water edge.

Emma had peered in the windows of some of the taverns, looking for a place she might be able to gather information, but there were guards in every single one, clearly having a few drinks as the darkness fell. The guards did seem to be off duty, but she didn’t want to risk it.

She should have realised that the docks would be heavily guarded. Pirates frequented the area, so there was always a significant security presence, but dignitaries had been arriving throughout the day for the royal wedding. Dozens of extra guards had been sent to protect them as they prepared to travel up to the palace..

Ducking further into the shadows as a couple of men in palace uniforms rushed past, Emma tried to figure out what to do. She needed more information, but she knew the amount of guards would only increase once it was discovered that she was intending to miss her own wedding. It would be best for her to get as far from the palace as she could, but she didn’t want to travel for a long time in one direction only to find out that Henry was somewhere else.

Still, she wasn’t going to find out anything that day. Deciding to remain near the docks just in case she managed to overhear anything useful, Emma determined that the most useful thing for her to do right now would be to rest. After travelling for hours through the forest, she desperately needed to sit down, maybe take a nap.

She was going to have to sleep in a place where she wouldn’t risk being found, so Emma wandered down one of the quays to find a pile of crates. She rearranged them slightly, making a space large enough for her to curl up in and ensuring that she would be covered from the view of anyone’s idle gaze. It didn’t look particularly comfortable though.

Emma pulled the strikingly white feather cloak from her bag, still awed at the sight of it, and put it on. It fit perfectly, managing to complete hide any identifying features from sight. Wrapping the cloak tightly around herself, she inched past the crates to the newly created gap and knelt down, curling up into slightly uncomfortable position and resting her head on her sack of clothes.

It wasn’t as comfortable as a bed or chair, but it would have to do. At least until she had the chance to find out more.

~~~*~~~

_“What are you doing here?”_

_Emma lifted her head up from her knees and glanced at the speaker, a boy she had never seen before. He seemed nervous, as if he had not expected to see anyone else sitting in the alley, his dark eyes hardening at her presence._

_“I wanted some space.” she answered, tilting her head inquisitively as he started to move towards her. “Besides, I can sit anywhere I like. You seem much more suspicious than I do. Maybe I should be asking what you’re doing?”_

_At her answer, his face brightened and he grinned mischievously at her. “What makes you think I’d tell you?”_

_“If you don’t answer, I’ll just assume it’s something illegal.”_

_“Maybe it is.”_

_The answer caught her full attention and for the first time, she felt a slight excitement at his words. “You shouldn’t admit that to me. That could get you in trouble.”_

_“Only if  you tell.” He searched for something in her eyes, and Emma didn’t know what he was looking for, but he seemed to find it. He stepped closer, leaning against the crate she was sitting on, much closer than Emma had expected him to be. “But I don’t think you’ll tell anyone. You’ve never seen anything illegal. You want to know what I’m up to.”_

_Emma bit her lip, flustered at his proximity. “I’m sure I can guess.” she stated determinedly, keeping her eyes locked with his. “We’re both standing near the back door to the jewellers. I’m guessing we both know that the jeweller has been summoned to the palace by the King, to be given a commission.” She raised her eyebrow at him, leaving her guess unspoken._

_“Impressive.” He stated, raising a hand to brush her arm slightly. “I’m Baelfire, by the way.”_

_Emma watched his hand against her arm, her eyes darting up to glance at his teasing smirk. “I’m Emma.”_

_“Nice name.”_

_“I suppose.”_

_“Do you want to help me?”_

_At that question, whatever trance she had been in fell away and she shifted away from him. “I shouldn’t.”_

_“Doesn’t mean you don’t want to.” he insisted. “Come on! You’re not sitting in an alley because you’re enjoying yourself. You’re bored. You want to try something different, do something that you’re not meant to do. I promise you. It’ll be fun.”_

_“I don’t need to steal.” she said, pressing a hand to his chest to stop him from getting any closer. “I’m the princess.”_

_“I know.” Emma’s eyes widened, watching as he gently placed his hand over hers and lifted it from his chest, his thumb absently stroking the back of her hand. “I knew as soon as I heard your name. I think that makes it even more appealing, don’t you? It’ll be like I’m corrupting you.”_

_Emma mouthed the word ‘corrupting’, unable to look away from the strange boy, from Baelfire, as he tried to convince her to join him in whatever heist he had planned. Why was he so insistent? Didn’t the fact that she was the princess dissuade him from getting her involved, from trusting her?_

_“How about a deal?” he stated, frowning slightly after he said the phrase and dropping her hand completely. His eyes seemed dimmer, as if something had happened to shift his mood, but Emma had no idea what could have suddenly affected him. He took a deep breath and his face relaxed, the cheeky smile back on his face. “How about we break in, I take whatever piece of jewellery you want, and then you sneakily lay the money on the counter? That legal enough for you?”_

_Emma nodded before she could realise what she had even agreed to. Yes, she was bored of her trip into the town, which was why she had abandoned her mother to sit in an alley, but this seemed like the worst possible activity for her to get involved in. However, she wouldn’t feel guilty if she paid, and she was sure she would enjoy the rush of trying something new, of doing something that she shouldn’t._

_Baelfire seemed to be waiting for her to stop thinking, to stop attempting to talk herself out of it, and once her jaw stiffened in determination, he reached forward to help her stand up. His hand wrapped around hers, he led her to the back door of the jewellers, chuckling quietly when he saw her confused look._

_“Don’t know how to pick locks, I guess.” he whispered, leaning his face close to hers so that she could hear every word. Emma nodded, wondering why he felt the need to whisper now when he had been more than happy to speak loudly as he convinced her to help out. “I’ll teach you.”_

_Emma’s breath hitched as he shifted even closer, one hand rifling through her hair and pulling her nearer to him. “What are you doing?”_

_“I don’t have any hairclips on me at the moment.” he murmured, that same cheeky grin reappearing as he carefully pulled a thin metal clip from her hair, brushing the released strands of hair behind her shoulder. “So I need to borrow one of yours, if that’s alright with you?”_

_Emma swallowed but didn’t speak, watching as he snapped the pin in half, bent one of them and handed her the two pieces. Once the metal was in her hand, she shook her head slightly to clear her mind and then scowled at him. “You should have asked.” she bit out, stepping away from him and approaching the door, determined to pick the lock without his help. “And I can do this myself.”_

_She bent down, the two picks hovering in front of the lock as she tried to figure out what to do, how to work it. It couldn’t be much more complicated than putting the two pieces into the keyhole, but yet she was reluctant to just use force._

_“Not sure how to do it?” Baelfire asked, Emma stiffening as his arms wrapped around her and he guided her hands to the keyhole. “First, you put the anchor, that’s the bent bit, in the bottom of the keyhole.” As he instructed, Emma gently placed the metal into the lock, his hand keeping hers steady. “And then you use the other piece, the pick, to wiggle the lock around until the lock opens.”_

_Emma tried to concentrate, to listen to what he was saying, but a combination of his proximity and the excitement she was feeling about doing something so not princess-like was making her breath quicken and her hands unsteady. Despite his grip on her, the pick slipped from her fingers and she bit her lip in frustration._

_Baelfire released her hands, turning her around so she was facing him, her nose inches away from his. “Better luck next time.” he teased, and Emma noticed his gaze darting to her lips._

_Emma was pretty sure that he wanted to kiss her. She stood still, trying to take in every aspect of his appearance – his dark eyes, his mischievous grin, his messy hair – and realised that she wouldn’t mind. She wanted him to kiss her. She’d only known him ten minutes. She didn’t really know him at all. All she knew was that she wanted him to close the gap between them._

_Or back away. Emma blinked as he stepped away from her, now looking straight past her to the entrance of the alleyway. “I think they’ve noticed that you’ve gone missing.” He stated, his arm reaching past her as he removed the metal from the keyhole. “I think you need to go.”_

_Emma nodded, pushing past him so that she was no longer trapped between him and the door. “Well, that was more fun than I had expected.” she admitted quietly, her own playful grin crossing her face. “I suppose this is goodbye.”_

_“I don’t know about goodbye.” Baelfire stated, the corner of his mouth curling up in a smile as he stared at her. “Who knows? Maybe our meeting was fated. Maybe we’re fated to meet again. After all, we didn’t actually manage to break in, so I still owe you some jewellery.”_

_“If I remember correctly, I was going to pay for the jewellery.” she pointed out, wondering if he really believed in what he was saying, in fate. “If we meet again though, I’ll trust that fate knows what it’s doing.”_

_“We will. I think we’re fated to meet again.” he said, his grin widening when Emma, unable to stop herself, stepped close to him and placed a light kiss on his cheek. “Besides, I’m pretty sure I know where you live.”_

~~~*~~~

A sudden jolt of pain in her leg woke Emma up, her eyebrows furrowing into a scowl when she realised just what she had been dreaming about. Those memories had been better off forgotten, but it seemed that after the events of the past day, everything she had forgotten was coming back to her, that dream almost as vivid as if she was actually there, actually seventeen again.

For a moment, she was thankful that she had been woken up. That feeling vanished when she felt something hit her, another shot of pain lancing up her arm.

Someone was throwing things at her. She couldn’t see who it was though, the cloak now low enough that it covered her eyes completely. Emma shifted slightly in attempt to get a glimpse of her attacker, but fell still when she heard footsteps approaching.

“Smee,” a voice drawled; the word clipped and angry. “I would say that throwing things at a swan is bad form.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, no idea about updates. I'd like to thank everyone who gave this kudos and give an especially big thanks to Hawkeye733 for checking it over and making sure I make sense!


	4. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed this! I'd like to thank everyone who gave this kudos or bookmarked it! Also, a big thanks to Hawkeye733 for beta-ing!
> 
> DISCLAIMER: Don't own Once Upon A Time and the related characters!

**Chapter 3**

“It’s a bit big to be a swan, Captain.” The reply was sullen, but Emma could hear footsteps moving away from her. At least this man, Smee, seemed to be leaving her alone. “I wanted to know what it was.”

“I don’t believe throwing things would help in that respect.” The Captain still seemed irritated, sounding quite impatient as he spoke to Smee. “The Crocodile has finally stopped moving around and I’d like to take advantage of that, rather than spending time giving other creatures a reason to have a vendetta against us.”

“Do you know where he is?” Smee asked after a moment, making Emma wonder what had caused the pause in the conversation. “I thought we already knew that he was no longer on the move. That’s why we came back.”

“Yes. And he was last seen near Sherwood.” snapped the Captain. “We are not giving him another chance to get away. Now go and find the rest of the crew.  Tell them we’ve found the Dark One at last.”

The Dark One? Emma jolted in shock, not having expected to happen upon information by chance. This man could lead her exactly where she wanted to go! When she heard heavy footsteps travelling away from her, she jumped to her feet and pushed her hood away from her face, wanting to follow the two people.

To her surprise, one man stood a few feet away from her, his gaze locked upon her. “Eavesdropping, were you?” he drawled, raising an eyebrow in question. “I gather the rocks were enough to wake you.”

Emma stared at him, taken aback by his appearance. His dark hair was slightly mussed from the breeze, his intense black-rimmed eyes fixed upon her. His mouth quirked in amusement, clearly aware of her scrutiny, and he stepped towards her. From his outfit, Emma guessed that he was a pirate and she instinctively leant away from him.

This pirate had told the other, Smee, that he had found the Dark One. Somehow, Emma had managed to find the one ship that was travelling to exactly the same place she was, and she needed to join them. She didn’t care that they were pirates, didn’t think about the potential risk she was eagerly walking into. She had to ensure that she boarded the ship with him.

“I guess I should thank you for stopping them then.” she stated, adjusting her cloak so that it fell neatly to the ground. “I have to say, it was very lucky I found you.”

“Found me?” The Captain said with a low chuckle, raising an arm to gesture at her. Emma froze, her eyes drawn to the silver hook that was attached to his wrist. She hadn’t noticed his lack of hand before, her stare focussed on his eyes, but now her eyes were drawn to the attachment. He definitely noticed her glance shift down towards his wrist for when he spoke again, his voice was harsher. “I wasn’t aware that you were looking for me.”

“Neither was I.” Emma replied, clenching her jaw and determinedly looking back to his face. “But I need to get to Sherwood too. And then I heard you.”

His eyebrow quirked once again and he stepped closer to her, his one hand reaching out to brush against the feathered cloak. “Are you saying that we were fated to meet?” he murmured, his eyes locking with hers. “Because I don’t allow just anyone onto my ship. Fate is not a good enough reason.”

“I don’t believe in fate.” Emma bit out; distracted slightly by the way his hand was lingering on the cloak, almost touching her hip. “I’m willing to pay for the journey.”

“Pay?” he repeated, his fingers finally curling away from her. “It’s a long trip and it does not look like you have much you can give me. That cloak looks expensive, but I don’t need it. I won’t accept it as payment.”

She hadn’t been intending to give him the cloak anyway, but now that he had mentioned it, she wasn’t sure what else she had to give him. She had left the palace with a few outfits and some food, nothing she didn’t need, but with much less money than she usually carried.

“I will work on the ship.” she suggested, crossing her arms and fixing him with a determined stare. “Will that do?”

Another eyebrow raise. Emma blinked slightly. He was always moving his eyebrows, every thought expressed by slight movements. She could tell that he thought her suggestion was ridiculous, that there was no way he was going to allow her onto the ship with what she was currently suggesting. He was only humouring her, waiting for his crew to return before he left her side.

“You will need to offer me something better than that, lass.” he said, inching even closer to her. “Any suggestions?”

Emma almost swallowed, his sudden shift closer making her think that maybe he was implying something that she really didn’t want to consider, but then his eyebrow lowered slightly and she figured it out. He was acting like a pirate was expected to act, his dark glare intending to scare her away. He didn’t want her to join him, that much was certain, and he would act more and more intimidating until she left.

“Just one.” she answered, ignoring how he was now holding his hook nearer to her. Another attempt to make her fear him. She had one valuable object with her, an object she was reluctant to part with. However, she would give up anything if it meant getting her son back. Keeping her eyes on the captain, she pulled Henry’s music box out from her sack and held it out for the pirate to see.

He looked down at it, reaching out as if to accept it before stopping, his hand hovering in the air. “A box?”

Emma looked down at it, running a finger gently across it. The man’s gaze followed her movements, examining the enamel decorations and exquisite silver framework. With him watching, she lifted the lid, seeing the cylinder inside begin to turn and music start to play.

She glanced back up at him to see his reaction, confused when she noticed that his eyes had widened and his hand had inched even closer to the music box. “It’s a music box. It plays an old lullaby, one from back when the ogre wars were happening.”

“I know it.” he said hoarsely, his hand crossing the remaining space to the box and carefully closing the lid.

He was silent, but Emma could tell he was thinking things over. She didn’t know why, but the music box had changed his mind. His jaw was clenched and he kept glancing between her and the box, as if he was still unsure. After a few more minutes, he reached out and took the music box from her, his grip tightening around it.

“You may join us on the ship.” he started, his gaze still locked on the silver box. “But I will expect you to remain below deck unless I say otherwise. You will be helping in the galley. If I decide I want you off the ship, then you will leave. Satisfactory?”

“The music box is very valuable to me.” Emma told him, grimacing at the realisation that she was giving away the one thing that had reminded her of Henry. “I can’t let you have it if there’s no guarantee that I’ll get to where I want to go.”

“I can _guarantee_ that I will take you to Bisnagar. Once we get further than that, then it’s my decision whether or not you stay on board.” Emma bit her lip at his response, but remained silent. She hadn’t expected to find out anything this quickly, and she needed to get to Henry as quickly as possible. He seemed to take her silence as an agreement, using his hook to take hold of her sack and lift it away from her side. “You can call me Captain Hook.”

“That can’t be your real name.” Emma told him, her eyes widening in shock as he carried her bag for her, gesturing for her to follow him.

“No one calls me Captain Jones anymore.” He said, striding towards a tall ship anchored at the nearby dock. “I do not expect anything different from you.”

Unsure how to respond to that, she quietly trailed after him until they reached the gangplank. Hook stepped in front of her, blocking her way onto the ship.

“Am I not going to get a name from you?” he asked, one eyebrow raised in question. “Or shall I use a moniker of my own choice?”

Emma grinned innocently at him, remaining silent. Emma wasn’t a common name, and she knew from experience that some people were able to realise exactly who she was once they heard it. Hook seemed amused by her response, standing aside to let her past.

“You said this box was precious to you.” He muttered as she stepped by him, turning so that they were looking directly into each other’s eyes once again. “I promise you that I will treasure it.” Emma swallowed, unable to look away. After a few seconds of silence, Hook smirked at her. “Welcome aboard then, Swan.”

~~~*~~~

Once on board, Emma had not known what to expect. Hook had led her through to a large room, the walls lined with white planks, mermaid sculptures at the side of each window. The shelf under the windows was lined with books and maps, one map spread across the table that took up most of the room. To the side was a small bed, draped in red fabrics. Once her bag had been placed on the empty bed, Hook turned to her.

“This will be your room in the evening.” he instructed, using his hook to point at the maps throughout the room. “I will use this room throughout the day, during which time you will be helping Bill in the galley.”

Emma nodded, glancing curiously around. She had expected a much smaller room, thinking that she would end up sleeping in the same room as the rest of the crew. However, she was very glad that Hook had decided to give her a room of her own, guessing that she would be only woman aboard. “It’s bigger than I was expecting.”

“It is the Captain’s cabin.” Hook replied, turning his back on her and striding back to the ladder. Emma gaped at him. It had been hard enough to persuade him to allow her on board and now he was giving her his room? “I believed you wouldn’t want to share a cabin with any of the crew. Besides, I only use this room for work. That bed has not been used in centuries.”

Centuries seemed like an exaggeration, but Emma appreciated what he was saying. She did wonder where he slept, thinking that it was unusual for the Captain to sleep in the same room as the crew. Perhaps there was another room on the ship, one he preferred for his own use.

After a moment of contemplation, in which Emma was trying to figure out what to say, Hook cleared his throat and spoke up, his voice brittle. “I will show you the kitchen before I prepare the ship for our departure.”

Hook let her go up the ladder first and then he led her through a few short corridors to small room. The opposite side of the door was lined with overhead cabinets, a large stove the main feature of the room. Emma glanced around, quickly grasping the layout of the room and wondering how she would manage to cook for a large crew. She had never cooked before in her life.

“Bill will show you where everything is.” Hook told her, waiting for her to move into the centre of the room before starting to close the door. “I’ll send him down. Perhaps you will finally take over that cloak of yours. It can get rather hot in here.”

Emma nodded, watching Hook walk away until the door had closed completely before carefully taking off her cloak and folding it up. She placed it on a small stool, and then wandered idly around the room, opening some of the cupboards and peering into them.

“Are you Swan?”

Emma spun round when she heard the gruff voice, seeing a man standing in the doorway. He was very burly, with grey hair tied back in a short ponytail and a thick beard, his pirate image completed by an eye patch covering his left eye.  When she made eye-contact with him, a grin crossed his face, his slightly twisted mouth making him look even more intimidating.

“I think so.” she answered with a laugh. “I think that’s what the Captain is calling me.”

“D’you have another name then?” he asked, stepping past her and starting to pull various pots and pans from the cupboard. Emma shook her head, despite knowing he would be unable to see her response. Her silence seemed acceptable though, as he continued speaking. “I’m Bill Jukes. Call me Jukes. Only the Capt’n calls me Bill. You cooked before?”

Emma didn’t want to admit her lack of cooking experience. She doubted most people could go their entire lives without cooking, and she really didn’t want to draw attention to her royal upbringing. “A bit.” she answered, raising an eyebrow as if she was challenging him to question her answer. “I’m not very good though.”

“I’ll teach you then.” Jukes stated, his grin softening slightly into something more friendly. “I’m not bragging, but you won’t find many people who’ve been cooking as long as me.”

“Are we cooking now?” Emma asked, surprised at the immediacy of the work. “We’ve not even left port yet.”

“I was going to cook up some of the fruits we’ve just got.” Jukes explained, placing a heavy-based pan on the stove and then turning to dig out some fruit. “We’ll be at sea for a while, so if I make jam it will last much longer. Just something I’ve picked up over the years.”

“Jam? Not what I imagined pirates would eat.”

“This crew has gotten good at surviving. When you’re at sea for years at a time, you figure out how to make your food last.” Jukes continued at her prompt, handing her a pile of oranges. “We eat cheese, meat and fish mostly. The Capt’n always buys fruit and things when we’re in port though, give us a few days of variety.”

Emma grimaced. She hadn’t thought through the details of this plan. Staying on this ship would get her to Henry, that much she knew, but she hadn’t really considered what staying on the ship would entail.

“So, do you need any help?” she asked, placing the oranges down on the wooden table and watching as a couple rolled straight off the edge, landing on the floor with a dull thump. “I can try chopping the fruit for you.”

“Don’t need to chop them yet.” Jukes told her, giving her a look that made her feel as if she had just asked a really stupid question. “First, we boil them in water. Makes it easier to sort everything out later.”

Emma realised that it was probably best to let Jukes tell her what do instead of guessing, so she followed his simple instructions until the oranges were boiling on the stove. With that, Jukes sat down at the table, gesturing for her to take a seat.

“So, why d’you want to join us?” he asked, a genuinely interested look on his face. “We don’t get many new faces on here. We’ve all been together for so long that it’s hard for others to join us.”

“How long?” Emma asked, wondering if she could find out more about her new companions. “Your captain doesn’t look too old.”

Jukes shrugged. “I’ve known him since he was barely fifteen. With how well I know him, the only thing I’m wondering is how you managed to get him to bring you with us. He’s not one for guests, and our last passenger only left us weeks ago.”

“We made an arrangement.” Emma explained, firmly making the decision to keep the details to herself. “I happened to be going to the same place as you, so I thought it would be a good plan to join you.”

“We’re pirates, girl. Only desperate people force their way onto pirate ships.”

~~~*~~~

The first few days passed slowly. Emma had yet to get used to the constant swaying of the boat, spending all her time feeling slightly nauseous. She hadn’t spent much time on deck, her work in the galley keeping her surprisingly busy. Emma was glad about this, as more work meant that she was distracted from the many warring thoughts constantly in her mind.

Despite her worry about Henry, she was constantly thinking of home. If she had remained there, she would have been married by now and the war with Regina would be in the past. Now that she had run away, it was unlikely that Regina would have continued working towards peace.

It was lucky that there were so many things that could keep her distracted. Jukes was one of the most amicable men she’d ever met, somehow managing to remind her of Grumpy despite his more positive outlook. When they weren’t cooking, he would tell her stories of the various things he had seen – spice markets in Agrabah, jousting tournaments in Camelot – seemingly having more stories than one could experience in a single lifetime.

However, she only ever got vague explanations of why they were travelling to Sherwood. She kept hoping that she would find out more about the Dark One’s location, but all she had gleaned from Jukes was that it was the first time in a while that the pirates had had such a definitive location.  Jukes insisted that only the Captain should tell her why they were going there and Emma found it unlikely that the Captain would ever share such information with her.

Every evening, Emma would find Hook in the Captain’s Cabin, pouring over maps or scribbling things down in the margins of a rather large book. As soon as he saw her, he would put away all of his things and leave without a word. On her first day, Emma had tried to see what he was doing, but the book was locked away in a small chest, and the map contained no information other than the layout of the Enchanted Forest.

Tonight, though, Emma was going to speak to him. Even if he never told her anything about the Dark One, she had to try.

After a quick dinner consisting of a few thin slices of salted ham, cheese and thick biscuits, Emma had covered herself with the swan-feather cloak and retreated to the cabin. Standing in the doorway, she watched him as he dipped his quill into ink and scribbled something down in the side of a book. He then reread the page until the ink was dry, closing the book instead of turning the page as Emma had expected.

“What do you want, Swan?” he sighed, rubbing his hand across his face and then turning to face her. Emma frowned at his tired expression, stepping towards him and trying to catch the title of the book. “You normally come down here later than this.”

“I wanted to ask how long it will take until we reach Sherwood.”  she asked, joining him at the table. “I’ve never travelled anywhere on a ship before. I don’t know how long things usually take.”

Hook’s eyes narrowed, but he inched to the side and spread his map over the table. “We’re here.” he began, once again using his hook to point out their location. “We’re going to travel south, around the Agrabah coast. We’re going to stop at Bismagar and Agrabah, before going back up north.” Emma followed his hook as he used it to demonstrate the path he planned to take. “We’ll then sail across Dragon Bay until we reach the edge of Sherwood Forest.”

“And how long will that take?”

“Two months, allowing for weather and any setbacks.” He answered, scowling. “Unfortunately, we are unable to travel any faster than that. What is there in Sherwood that interests you? Ever since Robin Hood chased out the Sheriff, there’s been few places of interest there.” Emma met his eyes, unable to think of a viable excuse. He raised an eyebrow suspiciously. “If it’s Rumplestiltskin you’re intending to see, I’ve heard he does not allow many visitors. If he wanted to deal with you, you would have encountered him already.”

Emma blinked. She hadn’t expected Hook to bring up Rumplestiltskin on his own, Jukes having implied that the hunt for the imp was based on something personal. “Then why are you going after him?”

Hook gave her a searching look, managing to neatly fold the map with his one hand as he maintained eye contact with her. “All you need to know is that I intend to kill him.” he replied eventually. He didn’t give her an opportunity to speak, his scowl smoothing out as he winked at her and stood up. “Now how about you come up on deck tomorrow without that ridiculous cloak you insist on wearing in my presence?” he said with a mischievous smile. “We’re sailing past the desert so the weather will be lovely. I wouldn’t want you to miss out.”

“And why would I want to do that?” Emma asked, unmoving despite his increased proximity. “I’m happy where I am.”

“The view.” he responded quickly, stepping past her. His grin widened as his body brushed against hers, stopping so that they were almost pressed against one another. “It’s not a view that many get to experience. Besides, I know I would appreciate the view if you were there.”

Emma rolled her eyes, biting her lip to hide her amusement at his blatant attempts to flirt the cloak off of her. “I’ll consider it.”

That seemed to appease him, and Emma watched carefully as he strode out the door, giving her a quick wave just before the door shut.  After a few moments, she turned her attention to the table, a pleased smirk crossing her face when she saw that his book was still on the table.

She reached for it, the thick leather binding not showing a title, and flicked it open. Most of it was in a language she couldn’t decipher, so she focussed instead on the notations written in what she guessed to be Hook’s scrawl. The annotations seemed to be additions to the text, knowledge that Hook had that was not mentioned in the book itself.

The main notes were about curses and methods of breaking them. On one page, Hook had written ‘true love’, but this had been struck through with enough pressure to break through to the following page.

The book didn’t tell her anything. The only thing Emma knew now was that Hook wanted to break a curse.

He just didn’t know how.


	5. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you go! Thanks for all the comments and kudos! Big thanks to Hawkeye733 for the hours spent checking this over!
> 
> DISCLAIMER: Don't own OUAT and the related characters!

 

** Chapter 4 **

Emma hadn’t found out anything else. Although she had spent an increasing amount of time with Hook, she had yet to take her cloak off in his presence, imagining that if anyone were to recognise who she was, it would be him. Only Jukes had seen her without the cloak and his poor eyesight would have prevented him from recognising her either way.

Following Hook’s request to spent time on deck, she had settled into a routine. She would spend the morning on the deck, watching the thin line of land in the distance and enjoying the warm breeze. When Hook was steering, she would feel his eyes on her. Whenever she turned to look at him, he would shake his head at her in exasperation, his gaze on her cloak, and give her a quick grin before looking away.

Once the sun was nearing its highest point, she would retreat back down to the galley. Only the crew members who were desperately needed remained on the deck, the vicious heat too much to deal with unnecessarily. Occasionally some of the pirates would venture into the galley, which led to Jukes sitting down for a drink and leaving her to look after the food.

In the evenings, Jukes would give her a portion of food to take to Hook. He would fold up the map and close the book, take his food from her hands and place it on the table. After this, he would always pull out the chair next to him and hold his arms out, ready to take her cloak for her. Emma would brush his hands aside and take a seat. With a roll of his eyes, he would join her at the table.

Before eating, he would ask her who had cooked, and whenever it had been Emma, Hook would take a small taste and then give her a compliment and a wink. Emma would ignore this, leaning an elbow on the table and listening to Hook as he regaled her with whatever he decided he wanted to speak about. Some days, he would ask her what adventures Jukes had told her about and would give her further details, rhapsodising about the beautiful scenery and monologuing about swordfights he had won. After he spoke about traversing realms, he recognised Emma’s interest and would speak of a variety of different lands. At her questioning, he admitted that he had never visited the lands he spoke of, but insisted he had gathered his knowledge from a trustworthy source.

He would never mention anything too personal though, but she knew that he was aware of her perusal of his book. When she would retire for the night, he would make a show of locking the book away before leaving the cabin. Emma had long since given up on accessing the chest, the key always on Hook’s person, but she would often rifle through drawers on the off-chance that she would find anything to clue her in to the Dark One’s location, or the reason that the Jolly Roger was headed to him.

She never found anything useful. She had read through an old captain’s log, written by someone called Liam. At first, she had wondered if that was Hook’s name, but the handwriting didn’t match with what she had seen in the curse book. Knowing it wasn’t his, she thought he may have it because it contained useful information, but there was nothing in there of any use. One of the drawers under the bed contained a few patterned scarves, messily folded and shoved into a corner.

Following her search, Emma would feel a now familiar sense of disappointment wash over her and she would fall back onto the bed. The soft rocking of the boat would lull her to sleep and she would dream of Henry.  

~~~*~~~

_Emma sagged against her bedroom door, sighing loudly. Although she rarely saw Alexandra, the girl was constantly talking about fashion and jewels and various other things Emma didn’t care about. It was a relief to finally leave the diplomatic meeting, insisting that she had a headache and needed to rest._

_“Long day?”_

_Emma jumped up when she heard the familiar voice, eyes widening when she saw the man standing by her window. After their meeting in town, she had never expected to see Baelfire again, especially standing in her room._

_“What are you doing here?” she asked, rushing to lock the door before walking over to him. “How did you get here?”_

_“Your castle is surprisingly easy to climb.” he laughed, leading her over to one of the plush seats in the corner. “Although, this isn’t the first room I looked in.”_

_Emma smiled, amazed that he had even bothered to try and find her room. “That still doesn’t explain why you’re here!” she pointed out with a laugh, sitting down and making sure there was room for him to join her on the sofa. “I hope you didn’t sneak in just because you could.”_

_“Oh, it wasn’t easy. There’s a surprising amount of guards about.” He said with a mischievous grin. Emma opened her mouth to explain that there was a diplomatic meeting on, but he placed a finger on her lips, causing her to remain silent. “I came to give you something. Last time, I did promise you jewellery.”_

_“You were going to steal me some jewellery.” Emma corrected, her smile widening as he reached into his pocket. “I’m not sure if a princess should really be wearing stolen jewellery.”_

_“Is that your only objection?” he asked, showing her a delicate golden chain with a small swan charm dangling from it. “Because I’ll admit that it wasn’t the most expensive necklace I could have taken for you.”_

_Emma tried to look annoyed, but she was too flattered by the fact that he had risked the guards to come and give her something. Baelfire seemed to know exactly what she was thinking, his grin softening as he slowly reached towards her. She frowned slightly, but realised that he wanted to put the necklace on her. Shifting so that he could easily drape the golden chain around her neck, she held her hair up as he tried to close the clasp._

_She could feel his breath against the back of her neck, a slight blush rising in her cheeks at the unusual sensation._

_“There you go.” he whispered, gently turning her around so she was facing him once against. “I told you fate would make us meet again. Now tell me, what made you sigh like that?”_

_“Royal stuff.” she answered, finding herself wanting to tell him all about her day, to trust him with her thoughts. “I don’t enjoy all the diplomacy, you know, all the balls and meetings. Alexandra spends all her time fawning over Stefan, and I’m expected to be polite and happy to see everyone.”_

_“Everyone?” Baelfire repeated, still only inches away from her. “How many people attend diplomatic meetings.”_

_“It’s the royal families of all the kingdoms that are aligned against the Evil Queen. You know, there’s Aurora, Abigail and Thomas, and all the royal children. I think we’re expected to be a part of all the discussions, but they basically ignore us.” she ranted, ignoring his slightly confused expression. “They never really tell us how the border war is going, but expect us to take part in the discussions anyway. I was just glad to be away from all of that.” She bit her lip shyly, a coy look appearing in her eyes. “I was even gladder to find you here.”_

_Baelfire chuckled, leaning in to rest his forehead against hers. “Do you like the necklace, then?”_

_“I love it.” Emma answered, despite not having had a good look at it since he had briefly shown it to her. “You really didn’t have to go through all this trouble though.”_

_“Well, it was either a bit of trouble or not seeing you, and it was an easy choice.” he shrugged, meeting her gaze and shifting even closer, his nose now touching hers. Emma breathed in sharply, her eyes fluttering closed as she felt Baelfire press his lips gently against hers, one of his hands rising to rest on her neck._

_She had never kissed anyone before, having followed the traditional rules of courting up until this moment. However, she had never been much for tradition, only following this one due to the fact that she had yet to meet anyone worth abandoning convention._

_She had never been drawn to anyone as she had Baelfire._

_He pulled away and her eyes fluttered open, returning his soft smile. “That was nice.” she said haltingly, too many thoughts running through her mind for her to be too articulate. She shouldn’t have let him kiss her, she barely knew him, but she didn’t regret it for a second. If she thought about it, she really shouldn’t have allowed him to stay and talk with her in her room, shouldn’t have tried lock-picking with him when they first met, but it was too late now. “But maybe you should go? It’s risky, you being here.”_

_Baelfire kissed her one more time, his movements so fast that, if she had wanted to, she wouldn’t have been able to move away. “If that’s what you want.”_

_“It is.” She hesitated slightly, the pause causing Baelfire to grin. “Before you leave, where did you steal the necklace from?”_

_“I’m not going to tell you. You shouldn’t have to pay for a gift.” he teased, laughing at her irritated expression as he headed to the balcony._

_She was going to protest more, insist that he tell her, but he was almost out of the room. Instead of what she intended to say, she glanced nervously down. “I trust I will see you again.” she said, her eyes widening in surprise at her words. “Maybe when there’s not a diplomatic meeting on.”_

_“We’ll see what fate wants.” he answered, climbing over the balcony and vanishing from view._

~~~*~~~

Emma stood near Hook as he guided the Jolly Roger into the Bismagar Port. Although she did not yet have a clear sight of the quayside, she could see lines of tall ships and colourful market stalls dotted along the coast. Despite the dry, salty air and the sweltering heat, her cloak was still covering her, keeping her identity hidden from the rest of the crew. Whenever she would glance away from the scenery, Hook would attempt to catch her eye, his expression portraying how exasperated he was by her refusal to take her cloak off.

She had been told that once the ship was docked, she was expected to go on land and help Jukes with the shopping. There had been no mention of her deal with Hook or the fact that he had only guaranteed her passage to Bismagar. As he hadn’t mentioned it, Emma hoped he would allow her to stay on board. Still, she didn’t want to risk it. Her original plan had been to stay on the ship and refuse to leave. However, as they got closer and closer to the bay, Emma became more reluctant.

Her lack of information about Rumplestiltskin was daunting, so she was now considering leaving the ship in order to gather more information. All she had to do was make sure she returned before Hook raised the anchor and continued on his journey.

Remaining at the side of the deck, she watched as the ship slowed and knocked against the dock, the crew bustling around as they secured the mooring lines in position. Up close, she could see just how different Bismagar was to any of the places in her parents kingdom. The houses were plainer - simple, clay brick buildings with flat roofs and small windows - and everyone was wearing much less, a necessity due to the heat. Despite the bright colours from the market, there was an overwhelming yellow-ness about the city, the streets blending into the bordering desert.

It seemed like the Kingdom of Agrabah was entirely different to back home. The vast desert separating the two kingdoms meant that it was only possible to access the country from the sea, ensuring that very little was known about Agrabah itself. All she knew was that Bismagar was the main port town, and from the crowds in the street, it was obvious that plenty of trading occurred here.

Her attention drawn away from the deck, Emma was unaware that Jukes had sidled up to stand at her side, and she jerked in shock when he nudged her.

“That’s where we’re going.” he told her, pointing towards the market. “Get some more fruit. There might be some exotic ones you’ve never had before. I’ll give you a few, if you promise not to tell the Captain.”

A grin spread across Emma’s face, taking the arm Jukes offered her before following him down the gangplank to the sandy quayside. Finally back on solid ground, she stumbled slightly, now used to the slight rocking of the ship. Jukes chuckled when she clutched at his arm, attempting to regain her balance.

“Still got sea legs, eh?” he asked, leading her away from the ocean and towards the shade of the market place. “We better get you somewhere cooler. Unless you want to take your cloak off.”

Emma considered it. She doubted there were many people here who would recognise her, and it was even more unlikely that any news of her disappearance would have reached this part of the Enchanted Forest. Just as she went to remove her cloak, however, she caught sight of Hook. He was taking off his leather cloak and waistcoat, only leaving a billowing black shirt. Catching sight of her, he winked in her direction.

Hook would notice. If she took her cloak off now, he would watch. She would not be able to hide anymore, he would insist that she took her cloak off on board. She would have no excuse. At that thought, she lowered her hands back down to her sides.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine if we stick to the shade.” she stated, determinedly ignoring how Hook was now leaning against the ship’s wheel, his eyes closed and sun beating down on his face. “What sort of things do we need?”

“More meats and cheeses.” Jukes told her and she grimaced slightly. That was one thing she was getting sick of. “We’ll pick up some fruits as well. I think here we’ll be able to get some dates and figs, maybe some pomegranates.”

Emma frowned slightly. She had tasted those fruits before, but only at large banquets. The cost of them was too high to be bought on a regular basis. Of course, they would be much cheaper when bought from small market vendors, but easy access to such food was something Emma had never experienced. She trailed after Jukes, watching in amazement as he spoke to the vendors in a language she couldn’t recognise.

It was the first time since leaving the palace that she had felt utterly useless. Jukes seemed perfectly able to do everything alone, leaving each stall with a large amount of food that he would thrust into her arms. After almost two hours, Emma was boiling, sweat dripping occasionally from her forehead. This place was far too hot.

When they returned back to the ship, it was deserted. Jukes assisted her in the task of sorting the food and storing it away and then grabbed what looked like a wide-rimmed straw hat, which he perched jauntily on his head. “Keeps me cool.” he offered as an explanation, clearly unbothered by how strange it looked alongside his eyepatch. “Now, I’m heading to the pub. You going to stay here? I’m pretty sure that if you’re still here when we raise anchor, Hook won’t kick you off.”

That was what Emma had been hoping for. However, she wanted to relieve the overwhelming uselessness she had been feeling, and hiding below deck hardly seemed like a good use of her time. Still uncertain, she waved Jukes off before slumping down in one of the galleys wooden chairs.

One problem was that she couldn’t speak the language. She hadn’t been able to make out a single word as Jukes haggled, so she doubted she would even be able to speak to the locals, let alone ask about Rumplestiltskin. However, Bismagar’s role as the central trading town meant that there was also bound to be quite a few tradesman she could communicate with. These travellers may know more about Rumplestiltskin, could even be able to provide her with more information, such as a location more exact than Sherwood.

With that thought spurring her on, she retreated to the Captain’s cabin. If she was venturing outside in the heat, she was not going to wear her cloak. Despite her reservations earlier, she now knew just how hot it was. Still, she didn’t want to wear her other clothes out either. After all her time on board, they were getting rather dirty, no matter how many times she had attempted to wash them. Pinocchio’s shirt was thinning, her figure almost visible through the fabric. If she was going to go speak to various men, she did not want to be wearing that.

With a quick glance at her sack of belongings, she inhaled sharply. She had a plan.

~~~*~~~

It was a relief to feel clean. Deciding to play the part of ‘adventurer’, Emma had finally removed the thin layer of dirt from her face, something she had worn in an attempt to further protect her identity, and changed into one of her, admittedly beautiful, hunting outfits. She had wanted to let her hair down, feel it brush against her arms as it always did, but even with the cover of her cloak and bandana, it had become drier and less malleable during her time at sea. Instead, it lay against her back in a heavy braid, her overall appearance far more striking than it had been during the past week.

This time, she wanted attention.

She decided to try the busiest looking tavern, hoping that it would be easier to find someone who knew something. Her hunch proved to be correct. Immediately, her eyes were drawn to Hook. He was seated at the bar, his hook scraping gently against the wooden surface and his hand clutching a glass of what Emma imagined was rum. Although she was confident Hook knew more about Rumplestiltskin than what he had told her, he was the one person she didn’t want to speak to. If he knew she was the princess, she still wasn’t sure what his response would be.

He was, after all, a pirate.

She had been standing by the doorway for too long. As she had tried to adjust her plan to account for Hook’s presence, he had spotted her, his gaze locked upon her. He didn’t seem to have a recognised her; a blank, almost dumbstruck expression on his face, one eyebrow raised. His lack of familiarity boosted her confidence and she stepped forward, halting once again when he lifted his hook and tilted it towards her, requesting that she joined him.

Against her better judgement, she moved towards him, deciding to ignore the smug smirk that had crossed his face when he saw her approach. Settling into the stool next to him, she gave him a puzzled look as he turned away from her and shook his hook at the barman to catch his attention.

“A jigger of rum for the lady.” he stated, turning back to her once he saw that the barman was fixing the drink, still apparently unaware of who she was. “Now, this hardly looks like the place for someone like you. Looking for an adventure, lass? You are certainly dressed for one.”

“Perhaps I am.” Emma answered, leaning slightly towards him to ensure she held his attention. “In fact, I’m looking for someone. I thought maybe you could help.”

The corner of his mouth quirked slightly and he placed his glass down on the bar. His eyes darkening slightly, he gently tapped a finger against his lips, grinning when he saw Emma’s eyes glance briefly down at his lips. He twisted towards her, seemingly amused by Emma’s thrown expression, and then offered his hand to her. “I’m Killian Jones.” he said, grinning when Emma blinked in surprise. She had expected something more flirtatious. “What do you think I can help you with?”

“I’m Emma.” she responded immediately, briefly shaking his hand, her mind racing as she tried to figure out why he was using that name. He wasn’t lying - that was his name, she could tell - and his honesty had caused her to blurt out her own name too. That hadn’t been part of the plan either. Her name seemed to have caused no reaction other than a slight smile, and with this reassurance, Emma decided to act more boldly. “And I’ve heard you know a thing or two about Rumplestiltskin.”

Hook chuckled, withdrawing his hand and taking a quick swig of rum. “You’ve heard right.” he stated, eyebrows furrowing into a scowl. “However, I’m not going to share my information with just anyone. Why should I tell you?”

Emma swallowed, making sure to maintain eye contact with him as she leant closer. “Can’t you just trust me?”

“I don’t know you.” Hook scoffed. “If you want me to trust you, I’ll need to know more than your name. Why do you want to know about the imp anyway? Trust me, love, anyone who goes looking for him is not searching for anything good.”

“So what are you searching for?”

Running his hand down his face, Hook sighed and raised one eyebrow. “Just know that if you want to find him, you better find him before I do.” He paused, and Emma watched as he visibly relaxed, a calm expression on his face when he met her eyes once more. “So, Emma, what is someone like you doing in Bismagar?”

“I’m sure you know exactly why I’m here.” she replied, aware that her questioning must have given away her intentions. “Same reason as you.”

“I doubt it. You don’t seem the sort of person to want what I want.” He laughed, shifting even closer to her, his gaze scanning the length of her body. “I’d imagine you’re on some sort of noble quest, hoping that the Dark One will be able to help you save something.” He seemed to spot something on her hand and leaned away. “Or someone. Perhaps a fiancé?”

Emma frowned, only understanding his suggestion when she looked down and saw that she still had Graham’s ring on her finger, something she hadn’t been aware of since leaving the palace. Absently, she twisted it around as she glanced back up at the pirate. “Almost correct.” she teased, enjoying the way his eyes glinted with curiosity. “I am looking to save someone. Not a fiancé though. This ring is just a keepsake. I’m pretty certain I’m no longer engaged.”

“Pretty keepsake.” he murmured, seemingly pleased by her explanation as he moved close to her once again. “And I was right. A noble quest. I suppose I can’t deny you help for something like that. How about you tell me about this ex-fiancé of yours, and I’ll return the favour. Help you out.” Grimacing, Emma thought his offer through. Personal information was not something she enjoyed sharing, and she was uncertain just how much information he would offer in return. He seemed to sense her doubt, reaching out to brush a finger lightly across the golden ring as he prompted her. “What was he like?”

“He was kind. Distant, I guess.” she told him, unsure how much she even knew about Graham that would be of any interest to Hook. “It was not a marriage of choice. My family needed something and marrying him was the only way to get it. I agreed.”

“But you’re not married.” he stated, another wink sent her way when he drew his hand back. “So either you didn’t need whatever it was as much as you thought, or something else was more important. Your noble quest.”

He had said that phrase far too many times for her liking. “I didn’t exactly plan this… quest. I just left. To me, there was no doubt that I had to do this. I couldn’t wait around to marry some man my parents’ age.”

“So it was the age difference that bothered you?” he asked, now amused for some unknown reason. “I’d like to warn you, Emma, that I’m much older than I look.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “No. There wasn’t any particular thing about Graham that made me not want to marry him, other than the fact that he didn’t seem keen about the marriage either.” she insisted, staring back down at the ring. “I was fully intending on going through with it. I have to say though, I don’t regret leaving. Since I left home, I’ve not thought about him once. Not until you brought him up.”

She fell silent, unable to think of anything else she could offer him and not trusting him enough to discuss anything more personal. After a few seconds of quiet, Hook exhaled and raised an eyebrow. “I was hoping for more than that, lass, but if that’s all you’re willing to offer me, I guess I’ll hold my end of the bargain.” Emma was surprised that he wasn’t demanding anything else, but he just seemed bemused, taking another drink before continuing. “There is an island, just off the north coast of Sherwood Forest. On this island is a castle. As far as I’m aware, that’s where the Dark One is. I’ve heard that he hasn’t left in weeks.”

“The North of Sherwood?” Emma repeated, unable to stop the anger in her voice. “But then surely the best way to get there is by going around the northern kingdoms of the Enchanted Forest, not travelling south.”

He grinned at her fury, gesturing for the barman to serve her another drink before he replied. “Of course. Which boat are you travelling on? Most of them will be going in that direction.”

She closed her eyes. There was no way that Emma could tell Hook that she was travelling on his ship - not without him finding out that she was the girl under the cloak. “I have yet to decide. I was, however, under the impression that another way would be faster.”

“Personally, I would prefer to travel the way you described.” he said, sounding amused. “Unfortunately, I would rather avoid the seas belonging to the Evil Queen. They can be rather dangerous for any without permission to cross them.”

“Oh.” Emma muttered, her anger fading. She definitely didn’t want to get slowed down by the queen, and after running away before her marriage to Graham, she doubted she would be safe if Regina and her ever crossed paths. “Does that affect the journey much?”

“Higher temperatures.” Hook’s first answer ensured that Emma scowled at him, unamused. “It only takes a few days longer by sea, but then it is necessary to cross Sherwood Forest by foot. That may take around a week.”

“And how do you then get to the castle?”

Hook shook his head at her, biting his own lip as if trying to hold back a wide grin. “I still don’t know enough about you to trust you with more than that.” he drawled. “If you’re willing to tell me more, then perhaps, but if you’d rather not trust me, I’ll do the same. You should really hurry it up though. My ship will be leaving port before sunset.”

“Sunset?” she repeated, glancing out the window to see that the sun was already low in the sky. She needed to get back to ship before the rest of the crew, needed to disguise herself once more with the tattered clothes and long cloak. With that weighing on her mind, she downed what was left of her drink, ignoring Hook’s impressed mumble, and stood up.

“Emma, you’re leaving so soon?” He asked and she was caught off guard by the affectionate tone he used. “We’ve barely spent any time together.”

“I have to go.”

With a dramatic sigh, he reached for her hand and lowered his head to gently kiss it, keeping a hold of it as he looked back up at her. “I hope we will meet again, love. After all, we are both after the same thing. It would be strange if our paths didn’t cross.”

Emma was staring at him, surprised by his actions. Out of the corner of her eye, she glimpsed the ring once again, and suddenly it felt as if it were weighing down her hand, reminding her of responsibilities she had ignored and wars she had potentially started. Grimacing, she tugged it off her finger, holding it out as an offer. Hook looked at it, clearly confused by what she was doing.

“It’s a thank you.” she told him, taking his hand and placing the ring in his palm, glad to be free of it’s sudden burden. “For what little help you actually gave me.”

“I don’t think this is really deserved, love.” he murmured, his fingers closing around the ring despite his words. “But, you’re welcome.”

She rolled her eyes when he gently looped his hook around her wrist, pulling her other hand towards him and leaning down to kiss her hand once more, this time in gratitude. As soon as his lips left her skin, she pulled her hand back and turned on her heel, striding out the door.

That really hadn’t gone as planned.


	6. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this took a bit longer than the others. I'm rather busy with uni at the moment, so I have no idea when the next chapter will be up. Thanks for all the kudos and comments! I hope you enjoy this chapter!
> 
> Also, thanks to Hawkeye733 for the beta-ing. You should all go and check out her story 'After He's Gone'!

#  **Chapter 5**

Hook had not even checked to see whether or not she was on board before the Jolly Roger had raised its anchor and set sail, the rocking of the boat alerting Emma to the fact that they were now moving. Luckily, she had managed to get back on board before any of the crew, changing back into her ragged clothes and cloak before any pirates managed to see her.

Curling up on what she now considered to be her bed, she watched the port get further and further away until it was a line on the horizon. She was glad to be leaving Bismagar, partly due to the fact that she was looking forward to escaping the sweltering heat, but mainly because the further she was from the port, the closer she was to Henry.

Now that she was alone, and more confident that she would reach her destination, Emma started to realise just how dangerous this could be. Even if she reached the Dark One’s castle, she had no idea how she would then obtain Henry. Rumplestiltskin had been determined to take her son, and it was unlikely that she would be allowed to simply take him back. It wasn’t as if there was anything else she could offer him, nothing that was as precious to her as her own son.

“Enjoying the view?”

She jerked around, pulling the cloak down over her face. After their latest encounter, she knew Hook would recognise her the instant her face was revealed, which would only lead to questions Emma did not want to answer.

His eyebrows furrowed when he saw that she had covered her face, but after a few seconds, he simply sighed and walked over to join her, unable to see her shocked expression when he sat down next to her.

“Have you come here to demand more payment?” she asked, when the silence was too much. “Because I don’t have anything I can give you. It would be nice if you didn’t make me walk the plank.”

Hook laughed, a gentler sound than she was used to hearing from him, and she was tempted to raise the hood slightly so that she could see him better, see if he was looking at her the way he had in the bar.

He couldn’t be. She was certain - almost certain - that he had no idea that Emma and Swan were the same person.

So she kept her head down.

“I would not make you walk the plank.” he stated, and she could still feel his gaze on her, feel him shifting on the bed, as if he was nervous. “I prefer not to let people know, but seeing as you’re you, I may as well tell you something. As much as I like to threaten people with such a punishment, I’ve yet to follow through. I find walking the plank far too impersonal.”

Emma lifted her chin slightly, the change in angle giving her a much better view of the pirate. His face had darkened, his hook resting on his thigh and his other hand fiddling with something, rolling something between his fingers. “Impersonal?”

“If I think someone deserves to die, I will not simply stand by and watch.” he snarled, Emma taken aback by his sudden viciousness. “I’ll kill them myself.”

Emma blinked, looking away from his dark eyes and fixing her gaze on his hand, trying to figure out what he was holding. She caught a glimpse of gold, and before she could stop herself, her hand darted out to stop his hand from moving. Nervously, she peered up at him, furrowing her eyebrows when she saw that he was staring intently at her hand on his. As much as she wanted to lift his fingers away from the object, she simply swallowed and moved her arm back to hover awkwardly at her side.

“So, it’s alright with you if I stay on board then?” she asked, determined not to let her impulsive action or his sudden anger stop her from discussing her time on the Jolly Roger. “Aren’t you going to demand anything in return?”

Hook remained quiet, his stare still locked on his hand. Emma waited for him to speak, shifting slightly as the silence grew longer and more uncomfortable. Her hand on his could not have thrown him this much, but he seemed unable to speak. Giving up, she started to push herself off the bed, deciding that she would much rather spend time with Jukes than waiting out Hook’s silence, but her movement seemed to bring him back to himself.

“You’ve already paid me.” He stated, his fist opening to reveal her engagement ring. Emma inhaled sharply, eyes darting between Hook’s calm expression and the ring in his hand. “Time is as valuable as anything else you could offer, and you have spent plenty of your time with me. That is more than enough to get you passage to the next port.”

“Time?” she repeated, watching as Hook ran his hook over the ring before placing it in a small pouch hanging from his belt. “Your price was time?”

“I’ll tell you a secret, love.” he murmured, edging closer to her and grinning, seemingly back to his usual self. “I’m rather fond of you. If you are willing to talk with me, then I am more than willing to let you stay on my ship.” It was followed, as usual, with a wink. Hook stood up, his hand brushing lightly against her shoulder as he turned to face her. “Now, I am required to steer the ship occasionally, so we must return to our intercourse later.”

With that, he strode out from the cabin, leaving Emma gaping after him. Intercourse? He had used that word that on purpose, he must have. Even knowing that, it had his desired effect of leaving her flustered. Hook had been acting different than usual, a darkness in his eyes that she had never seen before. After his sudden outburst of anger, he had tried to mask it, but Emma had seen through his attempt. Despite his more relaxed posture and easy smile, she could see that his jaw had been tense, the light still gone from his eyes.

He had tried to distract her with the golden ring; maybe because he knew exactly who she was or maybe hoping that she would ask questions about it instead of trying to figure out why he was letting her stay. Emma would definitely prefer the latter, but the confidence she had felt about her disguise was fading.

The longer she was on board this ship, the more likely it was that Hook would realise exactly who she was.

And Emma told herself that she didn’t want that.

  


~~~*~~~

Jukes insisted that he had had far too much to drink to be responsible for cooking the meal, despite seeming no different than usual. As soon as Emma had entered the galley and removed her cloak, he had taken her elbow and led her over to the stove, instructing her to keep stirring.

She wasn’t really listening to him, as he seemed to be constantly rambling about his decision to make risotto and why it was the best decision he had ever made, choosing instead to continue thinking about the captain. Hook confused her, his proclivity for keeping all conversations seemingly superfluous meant that she still found his motivations to be a complete mystery, and yet she felt at ease around him. Usually, when she knew people were withholding the truth, she found herself constantly suspicious around them, wondering what they were truly up to.

However with him she picked up a different impression, a feeling of kinship she couldn’t quite explain. She could see her own reluctance to trust others reflected by him and it made her wonder. Perhaps they weren’t so different after all and the reason he kept his story to himself was because the past was simply too painful to speak of.

She found the similarities comforting.

Emma was brought out of her thoughts by Jukes, who was calling for her attention. Apparently, she needed to ladle more stock into the risotto or it would become too dry. It seemed risotto was a meal that required concentration, at least according to the more accomplished cook. Forcing herself to keep listening to him, she turned slightly towards him, arm starting to ache from the constant stirring.

“I haven’t made risotto in a very long time.” Jukes stated, slurring his words slightly and finally convincing Emma that maybe keeping him away from the hot stove was a good idea. “It used to be Liam’s favourite, though the rice is hard to get. I don’t think we’ve had it since, well, you know. I hope Killian doesn’t get all upset.”

“Killian?” Jukes ignored her, still rambling on. Emma frowned slightly. Liam was the writer of the old captain’s journal she had found in the cabin, and if she believed Jukes, then it was more than a journal Hook had taken to use for research. What threw her most, though, was the use of Hook’s name. Despite his introduction to her in the tavern, she had never heard anyone referring to him by anything other than Hook, so it was jarring to hear the name from Jukes. “Why would he be upset?”

“He’s sentimental, Killian is.” Jukes answered, after a moment where he tried to remember what she was asking him about. “He likes to say he’s not, but if he pretends that things don’t mean anything to him, then he doesn’t have to talk about it. He doesn’t like things that bring back painful memories, but he doesn’t like throwing memories away either.”

“Who is Liam?” she asked, drawn in more now by Jukes’ sudden decision to talk about Hook with her. “Why is it so painful for Hook?”

That question seemed to jolt Jukes back to normal, his jaw tightening as he glanced away from her to the steaming pot in front of her. “I shouldn’t have said any of that, Swan.” he said stiffly, standing up and wobbling over to her. “Killian doesn’t like to speak about his brother and he wouldn’t want me telling you about him.”

With that, he wrestled the wooden spoon from her grip, continuing to stir the risotto. Jukes seemed unaware that he had revealed more than he intended, as Emma could tell that his last sentence had not been meant for her ears.

Deciding to act as if Jukes had remained quiet, Emma busied herself with gathering all the bowls needed for the crew, her mind racing with the information Jukes had unwittingly revealed. She desperately wanted to ask Hook about it, find out more, but she knew that it was unlikely that Hook would be willing to share. Despite having told him about Graham, she knew he was in no way obligated to return the favour, especially if he did not know who she was.

Hearing a sigh from Jukes, she turned back to face him, an idea coming to her when she saw Jukes ladling the risotto into small wooden bowls.

“Jukes?” she asked, laughing quietly when he jumped at the sound of her voice. Clearly, he had forgotten that she was in the kitchen as he was cooking. “I know the captain wanted to spend as much time as possible in the captain’s cabin, so I was thinking I would bring his food to him. I think he probably wants to eat there.”

“Sure.” Jukes slurred, apparently now distracted by a seagull flying alongside the porthole. “Do what you want.”

A fond smile crossing her face, Emma quickly threw the cloak back on, adjusting to make sure that Hook would once again be unable to see her face. Although she was less confident in her disguise than she had been before, at least hiding her face would prevent Hook from confirming her identity.

Taking two bowls, one for herself, and two spoons, she waved goodbye to Jukes, his attention still caught by the bird, and left the galley. The question now was how she would even broach the topic.

~~~*~~~

Hook didn’t even look up when Emma kicked the door of the cabin open, her hands full with the two bowls of food. He kept reading until she had placed the food on the table and pulled a chair around so she could sit beside him, allowing Emma to have a glimpse of what was in the large book.

Frowning slightly, she leant towards him in an attempt to get a better view, her gaze drawn to the unfamiliar illustration filling one page. The picture was of a dagger with wavy edges. It looked as though someone else, probably Hook, had carefully written the name Rumplestiltskin along its blade. The other page was in the same foreign language she had seen before, the margins filled with Hook’s scrawl.

“Have you memorised it yet?” Hook asked, once again sounding exhausted. “You’ve definitely stared at it for long enough.”

“Can you blame me for being curious?” Emma asked, gently nudging his arm away from the book and closing it, pushing the food in front of him. “You spend more time reading that book than you do captaining your ship.” Hook looked intently at her for a few moments, and Emma couldn’t stop herself from reaching up and adjusting her hood, worried that he would see her face. At her movement, he frowned slightly, the expression emphasising the dimness in his eyes and just how drawn his face was. “And you need to eat.”

Hook smiled softly, using his hook to drag the bowl closer towards him. When he saw the risotto, however, his smile faltered and he bit his lip, glancing up at her before his stare darted around the cabin. “Risotto?” he stated, his voice cracking slightly. “I haven’t had this in a while... not in years.”

Hook fell silent, taking a spoon from the table and carefully raising a small amount to his lips, his eyes closing when he tried it. Emma watched him, blinking slightly when he opened his eyes and stared directly at her, the smile returning to his face, though this time the sadness behind his eyes made the smile seem more bittersweet than any he had given her before.

“Not since Liam?” she finished quietly, maintaining eye contact with him despite his jerk away from her. “Jukes talks when he’s tipsy.”

“Of course he does.” Hook sighed, taking another spoonful of risotto and chuckling. “I had forgotten what risotto tasted like. I prefer not to dwell on memories, which is made far easier when I avoid anything that reminds me of the past.” he said, his voice quieting so that Emma had to shift closer to him again. “I’m assuming you’ve decided to join me for dinner out of curiosity. I have to admit, I’ve been expecting an ambush like this since you found his journal.”

“What?” Emma gaped at him, having been unaware that he knew the extent of her searches around the cabin. “How did you know about that?

“You seemed curious.” Hook answered, shrugging. “I know that if I were left in this cabin and I was interested in what the Captain spent all of his time doing, I would look around. I doubted you could keep quiet for so long.”

“I don’t talk that much!” she protested, knowing that most of her time on board the ship had been spent listening to him. “Besides, the journal looked too old to belong to someone you knew. How long ago did he die?”

As soon as she asked the question, her eyes widened. Yes, that was something she wanted to find out, but she had intended to get information from him by asking vague, searching questions, not by being as blunt as she had just been. Hook, too, seemed surprised but after a few seconds he chuckled loudly. “Swan, you’re straight to the point, aren’t you?” He looked at her, clearly uncertain about whether or not he was actually going to answer the question, but then his gaze darted down to her hands and he appeared to come to a decision. “It happened a long time ago. Before you were even born.” Emma frowned in confusion, and even though he couldn’t see her face, Hook seemed to guess what she was feeling. “Before your parents were born, even.”

“That can’t be possible.” she insisted, uncertain how Hook could even say something like that during what she had expected to be a serious conversation.

Hook shook his head, pushing the unfinished risotto away from him and turning to face her. “I suppose for you to know the whole story, I’ll have to start from the beginning.” he stated, gesturing for her to start eating as he spoke. “Although, it’s a rather long story, so maybe I’ll only tell you the first part. Keep you coming back for more.”

At least the innuendo was back. Hook didn’t sound as flirtatious as usual, clearly using the words to hide how he was really feeling. To her surprise, she felt an urge to touch him, support him as he told her of whatever pain was in his past. However, he had asked her to eat, to look away from him as he spoke, and if that was what he wanted, then she would do it.

“I wasn’t always a pirate.” He began, and Emma already wanted to stop looking away, to give him her full attention. “But I have spent my entire life near the sea. My father and I had a plan, to leave the crew of the merchant vessel we lived on and get a ship of our own, to explore all the different kingdoms in the Enchanted Forest and once we heard about the existence of other realms, we planned to travel to those as well. I don’t know whether or not we would have ever actually had such an adventure as ways to cross realms are rather hard to come by unless you know the correct people.”

Another mention of realm crossing. The idea seemed insane, but she had seen magic and been raised to believe that nothing was impossible. Hook had paused, as if expecting her to question him, but when she markedly ate another spoonful of risotto, he inhaled loudly and continued. “He told me he was going to go ask around, find a way to leave the Enchanted Forest, explore somewhere that no one in this world had ever seen before, be the first people to discover something…” he trailed off, his hook starting to scratch the table absently. “But he never came back. When the crew found out, they forced me back onto the dock. I was too young to be of any use on the ship, so…”

Hook fell silent once more, his eyes closing as he swallowed, his jaw tightening. This time, Emma dropped the spoon, the loud clatter causing him to open his eyes and stare directly at her. Her breath caught at the darkness in his eyes, a look she wasn’t familiar with but she could guess what it was. Emma couldn’t imagine what it would be like to have been abandoned, and she doubted she could say anything that would make him feel better. Uncertain how to respond, she cautiously reached for his hand, the first time in years she had intentionally reached out to someone, and brushed her fingers lightly against the back of his hand.

It was only fair. Although reaching out to him was something she was unused to, it was nothing compared to what Hook was doing, telling her something he clearly hadn’t spoken of in years, perhaps even decades if what he had implied earlier was true.

Hook caught her hand, entwining their fingers before clearing his throat, his eyes still locked on hers. “It could have been worse. There were some nuns in Briar who took me in after a couple of years, let me stay near the sea. When I was twelve, I saw a naval ship come into dock. I got down to the quayside in time to see my brother getting off the ship, not that I recognised him, but he shouted my name. He kept calling out for me, and when I finally got through the crowds and grabbed his sleeve, he told me he’d been searching for me for a very long time.” A sad, gentle smile crossed his face at the memory and Emma’s breath caught at the expression. “It was the first time I ever felt like someone wanted me, that I wasn’t a burden.” The last sentence seemed to have been a slip of the tongue, as he tensed up once again, his grip on her hand tightening. “But as I said, I want to keep you coming back for more and I have told you more than enough.”

He sniffed and glanced away,  using his hook once again to draw his food back towards him, and then drew his hand away. Emma bit her lip, watching him flex his fingers before he picked up the spoon, only withdrawing her hand out of his reach when he began to eat.

Somehow, despite everything Hook had divulged, there was no tension between them. As they ate the rest of their meal, silence fell naturally between them, just as it had after any of their earlier, playful exchanges. Emma couldn’t help but wonder at the easy companionship  they seemed to have stumbled across.

 


	7. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know when the next update will be as I'm pretty busy for the next week. Hope you all enjoy this though! Thanks to everyone who commented, bookmarked or gave kudos!
> 
> Big thanks to Hawkeye733 for beta-ing!

**Chapter 6**

After their intense conversation, Emma found that she and Hook had fallen into a routine. Emma still spent the majority of her day in the kitchen, enjoying the fact that she could remove her cloak. Once the sun began to set, she would take two portions of whatever she and Jukes had cooked up and bring them to Hook in the Captain’s cabin.

Hook had started spending even more time rifling through various books, still looking for whatever it was he was searching for, and whenever Emma arrived with food, she could see exhaustion and desperation lining his face. She wanted to help, to ask him what he was doing, but she remained silent. She trusted him to tell her whenever he was ready.

Since their discussion about his father, however, Hook had not spoken of his past. Emma was reluctant to bring it up herself, but despite implying that he would tell her more later, they had returned to their easier, light-hearted discussions. These tended to take place on deck, the sun and sea-air seeming to lighten Hook’s mood, giving him a relaxed expression that was never present in the Captain’s cabin. Although the wind caused the cloak to flutter around, risking her identity being fully revealed, she chose to stay up there, disregarding the risk for a chance to see the peaceful smile on Hook’s face.

Some days, when she had spent a long time on deck, Hook would seem particularly happy, taking her hand and dragging her over to the wheel. He seemed determined to teach her how to steer the boat, always holding one of her hands to the spokes, guiding her movements gently as he spoke about unrelated topics, such as the birds she might see above them or trying to teach her the names of the other crew members.

That never lasted long though, as Emma tended to feel more nervous whenever she was struck with just how enjoyable and relaxing she found his company, especially when his focus seemed solely on her. Whenever Emma had such a thought, Hook always seemed aware, releasing his grip on her and stepping away, giving her space so she could dart back down to the galley, put some space between herself and the pirate.

Hook now seemed to seek out her company though, often visiting her down in the kitchens. He always amused her when he made such trips, joking with Jukes about silly memories, using his hook to help chop up vegetables. Until this, Emma had not seen Jukes and Hook interact, Juke’s eyesight forcing him to remain off deck most of the time, but both of them seemed at ease around one another, something Emma knew was due to their long relationship.

The one issue with this was that it meant that Emma no longer had anywhere on the ship where she felt secure enough to remove her cloak. This was another issue Emma didn’t mind, time spent with Hook beginning to seem more appealing than an opportunity to remove the cloak.

Hook seemed aware of this, sitting close to her when the three of them were talking around the galley table, his hand gently fiddling with the tie of her cloak until whenever Emma decided it was time to nudge his hand away. Jukes would laugh as Emma readjusted the cloak and Hook would plaster a nonchalant expression onto his face, trying to pretend that he had been acting subconsciously. As soon as Jukes fell silent, returning to the original topic of conversation, Hook would wink at her, leaving once he and Jukes had finished conversing.

Evenings, however, were spent mostly in silence, the two comfortable simply eating together. Occasionally Hook would start up some small talk, discussing when they would next be in port and what he was intending to do. Emma gathered he would be spending his entire time on land in one tavern, somewhere he had once been rather fond of. He was more open now about having spent many years away from the Enchanted Forest, and Emma realised he was far less familiar with the kingdoms than he had appeared before.

It seemed that, despite the lay of the land remaining the same, most places had changed greatly in his time abroad, and Emma felt less nervous around him once she discovered his lack of knowledge about the current rulers of the different kingdoms. Even though she was unsure about her disguise in his presence, she was confident now that he didn’t know that there even was a Princess Emma, and so her cloak was becoming less concealing in his presence. To her, it was becoming less of a necessity and more like a game, the loser whoever revealed her identity first.

Emma was determined to win.

~~~*~~~

_He was very skilled at sneaking into the palace. Although she hadn’t seen him this time, a handwritten note had been left at the foot of her bed, saying that he hoped she would be able to meet him by the jewellery shop where they had first met._

_Emma had considered not going. Whatever was happening between her and Baelfire was definitely not proper, and all the sneaking around that it would entail would just lead to her being caught. However, the last time they had met, he had kissed her. She wanted to see him again._

_This meant that she had snuck past the guards and found her way down to the village. She had gotten slightly lost without the usual escort, but she was easily able to get back on track. When she reached the alley next to the jewellery store, Baelfire was already there, seemingly impatient as his foot tapped against the ground._

_He must have heard her footsteps as, when she turned into the alley, he was already staring straight at her, a broad grin crossing his face. Pushing off from the wall, he met her halfway, surprising her with a quick kiss as a greeting._

_Blushing slightly, Emma nudged him away from her, her hands holding onto his. “Hello.” she muttered, unsure how to respond to him. “I got your message.”_

_“I wasn’t sure if you were going to come.” Baelfire admitted. “I thought you might realise that princesses shouldn’t be spending their time with thieves.”_

_“I can spend time with whoever I want.” Emma muttered with a shrug. “As long as my parents don’t find out. I think they would prefer that I spend my time with a prince. They have been trying to make me spend time with Hektor, but I’d rather be here with you.”_

_“And I like being with you too.”_

_Emma giggled, allowing Baelfire to pull her close once again. Despite this only being their third meeting, she already felt as if she trusted him, feeling safe in his company._

_After another kiss, this one less brief and more intense, Baelfire led her away from the alley, his hand lightly pressed against the base of her back as they passed through the shadows. Once they were out of town, Emma turned to Baelfire, beaming at him. This illicit trip was exciting, a secret adventure that she could never let her parents find out about. At the thought, she threw her head back, a loud laugh escaping her lips. Baelfire joined in, swinging her hand back and forth as he led her through the woods, lifting her over tree roots and holding branches away from her as they made their way deeper into the forest._

_Emma felt giddy, talking constantly and smiling whenever Baelfire nodded or hmmed in response. She spoke of everything, ranging from her parent’s forcing her into interacting with Hektor and Stefan, to simple observations about palace life. She wanted Baelfire to know everything about her, she wanted to know everything about him._

_Tugging his hand until he came to a stop, she frowned slightly. “What about you? I want you to tell me about yourself.” she stepped closer to him and noticed his smile fading slightly. “I want to know you.”_

_Baelfire shook his head, reaching out to pull her into a loose hug. “Not yet. I’d much rather find out about you.” he told her, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “Trust me, Emma. My past is dull anyway.”_

_Emma glanced up at him, unsure whether or not she liked the idea of his past remaining a mystery. He was a thief eager to spend his time with a princess, something that Emma found rather unusual. Why was he a thief in the first place, and why was he willing to risk everything for her? If he was caught consorting with the only heir to the kingdom, she imagined he would face serious punishment. When she looked at his earnest expression however, her doubts faded slightly, pushed to the back of her mind._

_“I trust you.” Emma muttered, allowing him to press a soft kiss to her cheek. “I trust that you’ll tell me eventually.”_

~~~*~~~

The sun was already setting when the Jolly Roger sailed into the next port. Despite the blackness, Emma had joined the crew on board, peering over the railing to see the small orange lights flickering in the distance. There were torches lining the whole water line, creating a soft, welcoming glow that washed over them as they arrived in Agrabah.

The crew all seemed intent on getting to taverns as quickly as possible, Hook rhapsodizing about an inn that was apparently called the ‘Cave of Wonders’, joking about a barmaid he had once met there until he caught sight of Emma and fell silent. He invited her to join them at the tavern, not surprised when Emma turned him down and turned to make her way back below deck.

Waiting until the ship had fallen quiet, Emma changed into her hunting outfit once again, hair carefully plaited, and then exited the ship, shivering when she felt the air. Agrabah was much colder than Bismagar had been, as it was much further south than the desert. Wrapping her arms round her body in an attempt to warm up, she wandered through the streets, peering in each tavern window as she passed.

This time, Emma was consciously searching for Hook. She knew that he knew far more about the Dark One than he had told her last time, his constant research in the cabin evidence of that, and she was growing more and more desperate as the ship travelled closer to Sherwood Forest. Emma was certain she could persuade him to tell her more.

The ‘Cave of Wonders’ was further from the port than Emma had expected, quieter than the taverns she had passed during her walk, but through the window it looked warm and welcoming, perhaps more so because Hook was sat at the bar.

A bell rang when she pushed the door open, drawing the attention of most of the patrons. Hook spun round faster than any of the others, a pleased smirk crossing his face when he saw her. She grinned back at him, crossing the room before he could wave her over and then taking the seat next to him, leaning towards him so that their forearms were touching.

“Good evening, Emma.” he stated, picking out her name in a tone of goading indifference. “I’m surprised to see you here.”

“Are you really?” she murmured, forcing him to shift even closer so that he could hear every word. “Even after you told me the best route. Did you think I wouldn’t listen?”

“No. However, it’s a very big coincidence for us to arrive in port at the same time.” Hook said, raising an eyebrow mischievously. Emma exhaled, taking his teasing tone as final confirmation that he knew exactly who he was talking to. “If we meet at the next port as well, I will have to take it as fate telling us that we were meant to be together.”

Emma scoffed, ignoring his slightly irritated expression. “I don’t believe in fate.” she bit out, immediately sending him an apologetic look. He looked more intrigued than annoyed now, clearly wondering what had caused such a reaction. “We should just stick with coincidence.”

Hook remained silent for a few moments, passing her his drink before ordering another one. “It’s not much of a coincidence when you’re looking for me, is it, love?” he stated, sounding slightly sadder than Emma had expected. “You want to know more about how to find the Dark One, am I correct?”

“That’s right.” Emma answered, taking a quick sip of what, unsurprisingly, turned out to be rum. “I don’t think you understand how important it is for me to find Henry. I have to get to Rumplestiltskin’s palace.”

“Henry?” Hook repeated. Emma stiffened at the word. She had not meant to use Henry’s name. Hook knew she was looking for someone, but bringing up that person’s identity had not been something she planned on. “The person you want to find. Well, I am more than willing to tell you more, as long as you give me a similar amount of information.”

“Why do you want to know so much about me?” Emma protested, knowing that he wanted her to elaborate on who Henry was. “I’m asking you a very simple question.”

“Maybe because I don’t give anyone anything without getting something in return.” Hook suggested, his face twisting once he finished the sentence, seemingly displeased with what he had just said. “Or maybe because you intrigue me. Besides, wasn’t that our original deal? You tell me something, I help you with Rumplestiltskin?”

“I suppose that was the deal.” Emma muttered, grimacing slightly. She should have expected this. She considered leaving, the thought dropping from her mind almost instantly after it occurred. As much as she didn’t want to speak about Henry to anyone, she trusted Hook to listen. He had spoken to her about his past, not telling her everything, but still far more than necessary. He didn’t need to tell her anything, and she bit her lip slightly. It was only fair that she returned the favour.

She downed the rest of the rum, taking a deep breath and tensing slightly with determination. Hook smiled softly, ordering her another drink before taking her hand in his, giving her the same support she had extended to him. “I take it that you’re agreeing to the deal.” he joked lightly, hook pointing towards the now empty glass. “If it’s too hard to talk about, I understand.”

He did understand. It was this statement that allowed Emma to relax, knowing he would know exactly how hard it was to speak of the past, and she exhaled loudly. “Rumplestiltskin took Henry.” she began, closing her eyes tightly as the memory played in her head. “He has my son and I need to get him back.”

She was expecting Hook to release her hand at that announcement, but his grip tightened. Turning to meet his eyes, she frowned slightly at his wary expression.”Your son? I had heard that the Dark One had a proclivity for taking children, but it seemed that most people willingly allow their children to go with him. For a price, of course.” Hook’s lip curled, obviously not agreeing with such things. “However, seeing your desperation to get him back, I’m guessing either you didn’t like the outcome of a deal you made, or Rumplestiltskin took him for a different reason.”

It was Emma who pulled her hand away, aghast that Hook had even suggested that the loss of Henry was her own choice. “I didn’t make any deal with Rumplestiltskin. He took my son from me. He didn’t even give me a chance to make a deal. I would have done anything to keep Henry with me!”

“Why are you on your own looking for him?” Hook asked, reaching back towards her with an apologetic smile. “Is his father not helping?”

“His father never even knew Henry existed.” Emma answered with a shrug, demonstrating that she wasn’t going to talk about that topic. “And anyone else who would have helped had their memories wiped. Even me.”

“But you remember now.” Hook said, taking a drink of his own before meeting her gaze. “Doesn’t everyone else?”

“I don’t understand what happened.” Emma whispered, unable to stop tears appearing in her eyes as she remembered her terror when she had understood what had happened, when she realised no one else was even aware he existed. “I found one of his music boxes and all my memories just came back.” She frowned when Hook tensed slightly, the word ‘music box’ seemingly making him anxious, his eyes darting across her face as if he was looking for something. “When I told the others he was gone, they didn’t even know who I was talking about.”

“So you left.” Hook finished, reaching out to gently brush a tear off her face. “You decided to get him back yourself. That’s brave. I know what Rumplestiltskin is capable of, and if he wants your son, well-”

Emma interrupted him, catching his hand with her own and placing it back down on the bar. “Are you saying that you don’t think I’ll be able to get my son back?”

“I’m sure you will get your son back.” Hook stated and his certainty took her aback. “Because if you reach Rumplestiltskin, I believe you’ll be able to do something to get Henry back. If I get to him before you, I promise you that the first thing I will do is make sure your son is safe. I will get him back to you.”

“You don’t even know me.” Emma murmured, a last attempt to keep up this charade despite Hook’s earnest expression and tight grip on her hand. “Why would you promise that?”

Hook blinked slowly at her, a sad look in his eye for just a second before he masked it with slow smile, his tongue darting out briefly before he bit his lip and glanced away. “It’s the honourable thing to do.” He shook his head slightly and then faced her once again, a flirtatious grin plastered across his face. “Besides, we have a connection.”

Emma would have laughed, but she thought she may have hurt him enough with her insistence on pretending she was not the same woman as the one who wore the swan cloak, so she simply smiled. “Maybe we do.” she answered, wrapping both her hands around the glass of rum and then turning to him. “So now you know why I need to know how to find Rumplestiltskin. How to stop him.”

“I do.” Hook replied, closing his eyes as if he were trying to hide something from her, keep her from reading him. “Unfortunately, I’m not sure how able I am to describe the exact route to his castle. The nearest port on the southern side of the country is in Briar. That’s just inside the Kingdom of Queen Aurora. From there, cross into Sherwood and go north until you reach the coast line. Walk west until you reach the bridge to the Dark Castle.”

“That doesn’t sound too difficult.” Emma muttered, repeated the route under her breath.

“I have been warned, however, that there is magic protecting his castle, not to mention the other wizards and witches who inhabit the northern part of Sherwood.” He warned, laying a hand on her arm as if to ensure she was paying him full attention. “It seems that his power attracts others with similar interests.”

That, on the other hand, could delay Emma quite a bit. She wasn’t prepared for any fighting, all her weapons left back in the palace, and she knew very little about dark magic and curses. Of course, she was aware of true love and its ability to break any curse, but she really did not want to rely on that.

Only now had the true task awaiting her really sunk in, and Emma stood up, Hook looking up at her in surprise. Reaching the Dark Castle meant nothing. Rumplestiltskin had already demonstrated that he was not going to deal with her, and she could not stop him, was not strong enough to fight him. Only now had getting her son back looked close to impossible.

“Are you leaving, love?” Hook asked, pushing himself up to stand with her. “Shall I walk you back to your ship?”

“Um, no.” Emma mumbled, stepping back from him and frowning when she saw that he was starting to remove his leather coat. “That’s not necessary. I think it would be best if we just said good-bye.”

Hook swallowed, no longer trying to remove his coat and instead giving her a searching look. “Good-bye? Do you not think we’ll run into each other again?”

“I think it’s unlikely.” Emma said, her mind still racing with her recent realisations. What was the point of travelling with Hook, of getting all the way to Briar when she knew that she would never succeed, that Henry would never be with her again. “In fact, I think it’s not ever going to happen.”

He swallowed again. “I was hoping for a different answer.” he admitted, his voice hoarse and his eyes revealing utter sincerity. “But I will promise that if we do meet again, say, in Briar, then I will take it as a sign that we are meant to work together. I will stay by your side until we reach the Dark Castle and I will help you take back your son. I swear it.”

Hook couldn’t mean that. Why would he say that? Emma frowned, gazing up at him and waiting for her lie-detector powers to work, to show her that he wasn’t as earnest as he sounded, wasn’t desperate for her to stay by his side. After a moments pause, his stormy eyes still locked on hers, she sighed and looked away.

“Well, we’ll see.” she whispered, turning to leave and pausing when she felt the cool metal of his hook resting against her arm.

“It’s cold out there, Emma.” he stated, looking at her as if it was the last time, his eyes dancing over her as if he wanted to memorise everything about her. “You should take my coat.”

“But we’re never going to see each other again.” she whispered, this time sounding less certain than her previous declaration, her mind still focussed on his oath. “I can’t take it.”

“I would like it if you did.”

Emma inhaled shakily, his eyes finally meeting hers, his honesty washing over her and removing some of her doubts and fears about the task she had chosen to face alone. He would help her, he was telling the truth. Somehow, that made it worse. If the two of them tried and still failed to get Henry back, she didn’t know how she would cope. Worse, she knew that just because he meant something now did not mean he would follow through. He would leave her, just like the last man who promised to be at her side.  

With that thought, she pulled her arm out of his reach. “Good-bye, Killian.” she stated, her voice catching in her throat and coming out choked. “It was nice to see you again.”

He opened his mouth but Emma suddenly knew that if he said one more thing, she would not leave, she would stay with him until he decided that she wasn’t worth helping. Before the words could leave him, she turned on her heel and ran out the door.

 


	8. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still have a lot of work, but I should get this updated sometime next week! I hope you all enjoy this chapter. Thanks to everyone who commented and left me kudos, as well as especially big thanks to HawkEye733 for beta-ing!
> 
> DISCLAIMER: Don't own OUAT and the related characters!

#  Chapter 7

Emma couldn’t breathe, couldn’t stop running, not until she was far enough away from Hook. After that goodbye, she was expecting him to follow her, to chase her.

She couldn’t go back to the ship now. Hook was bound to look there if he couldn’t catch her, and the lack of footsteps behind her told her that he wasn’t near her. Although she was loathe to admit it, she felt disappointed, some part of her hoping he would go after her, insist that she remain with him for as long as possible.

But things like that didn’t happen to her.

Far enough away from the tavern now, she stumbled to a halt, tears prickling the corner of her eyes. What could she do? Everything she owned was in the Captain’s cabin, the swan-feather cloak abandoned on the bed. Of course, once she was back home, she could replace everything, try to fix whatever mess she had created when she abandoned Graham, and hope that everything turned out as best it could. Perhaps if Hook succeeded with whatever he was planning, he would return Henry to her.

Except Hook didn’t know who she was. Yes, he knew Emma and Swan were one and the same, but he was ignorant of her status as princess and it was ridiculous to expect him to scour the Enchanted Forest looking for her.

If she left now, Henry would remain with Rumplestiltskin forever. Perhaps he was happy, his memories of her removed the same way he had been taken from hers.

But if he wasn’t, how could she abandon him?

There were too many possibilities running around in her mind - what if Henry was happy now but could regain his memories at any moment? What would he think then, when he realised that she hadn’t come for him, that she had left him to the Dark One? What if she reached the Dark One’s palace only to realise she could never take Henry back, what if he killed her in front of Henry? What if, in an attempt to stop her having her own son, Henry was killed instead?

Overwhelmed, she sank to the ground, leaning against a bollard and gazing out to sea. She didn’t know what to do. She didn’t want to leave her son. She didn’t want to leave Hook. However, she didn’t know if she could handle it if another person she cared about, and she had to admit it, she did care about Hook, left her behind. If it was her choice, she couldn’t get upset about it, couldn’t wonder why he had chosen to abandon her. Why she wasn’t good enough.

But what she was feeling was less important than her son’s safety.

“You alright there, lass?”

She looked up in shock, surprised to Jukes’ standing only inches behind her. “Jukes?” she asked, seeing that he was staring out towards the horizon, giving her an opportunity to wipe her eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“I heard you.” he stated, slowly sitting down beside her, groaning when he was finally beside her. “I’m not cut out for the pirate life. I’ve been too old for a very long time. Now why don’t you tell me what’s wrong? I know you love to talk at me.”

Emma laughed half-heartedly, a fond smile crossing her face at Jukes’ insistence to hear her out, to comfort her. It felt familiar, paternal, and she relaxed next to him. “I’ve been travelling with you so I can reach the Dark One myself.” she began, realising that he must have already guessed that when he didn’t respond. “He has my son. The closer I get though, the more I realise that trying to get him back, trying to stop the Dark One, is insane. I can’t succeed, so why am I still here?”

It wasn’t much of an explanation, but Jukes didn’t seem to need one. From the expression on his face, she could tell he had already understood what was upsetting her. She let him jostle her around until her head lay against his shoulder, the position reminding her of her frequent conversations with her father.

“You know, Swan,” Jukes started, catching her attention once again. “I don’t think I ever told you how I lost my eye.”

“Lost your eye?” Emma repeated, stopping herself before she could stare at the eyepatch. She had never realised that he wore the eyepatch to hide the evidence of such an injury.

“Killian officially joined the army when he was fifteen.  By that point, his brother was already a lieutenant, and he enlisted Killian as a midshipman as soon as he had the opportunity. They were both talented, and rose through the ranks quickly. Liam was a natural leader and Killian would do anything to please him. It helped that Killian was one of the best navigators I’ve ever seen. Star charts, maps, you name it, he could read it.” Jukes paused, clearly lost in his memories. Emma found it hard to picture the eager young man Jukes was speaking about, Hook’s dark image and hook fixed in her mind. “Hard to believe, but I was a Commodore back then. I was in charge of Liam’s ship, and when King Perrault demanded I send one of my ships to collect a certain plant, I knew Liam was the man for the job.”

Jukes’ wasn’t the best story teller, but Emma was transfixed. This was a part of Hook’s life that he had yet to tell her, something she imagined he would not like her to hear from someone else, but Jukes’ was offering the information willingly. “So Liam went away? And died?”

“Not just yet.” Jukes’ said, his voice quieting. “When he found out what his mission was, travelling to a new realm, Killian was the first person he asked to join him. It made sense, with his navigation skills, and they never liked to be apart from each other for long. Not after it had taken them so long to find each other. I remained in the palace instead of assisting them as they prepared. I wanted to talk to the admiral, but when I tried to speak to them, I heard Admiral Zicks talking with the King and I heard the truth. The plant they were looking for, a plant I had been told would be used as a cure for all illnesses, was really a poison, something they planned to use to wipe out any enemies of Florestan. I knew that if Liam had known, he would have never agreed to such a task. Liam believed in doing the right thing, no matter what the consequences were for him. I also knew that if Liam succeeded without knowing, he would always blame himself for anything Perrault did with such a weapon. I decided to tell them. I couldn’t get down to the docks in time to stop them leaving, not with my own jobs, so I decided to send a message. It was riskier, less likely to succeed and more likely for my apparent treachery to be found out. I had to try though.”

“The message didn’t get there, did it?”

“No.” Jukes replied despondently, rubbing a hand across his face. “The messenger told Perrault, and before I could run, try and warn them again, they imprisoned me. If you hadn’t guessed, Perrault liked his violence and he decided his punishment for me, including banishment and expulsion from the navy, was the removal of one of my eyes. Punishments were just an excuse for him to enjoy pain. My message never made it. Liam never knew.”

“But what happened to Hook? To Liam? Did they find out what had happened?”

“Not for a very long time.” Jukes sighed. “Once I had healed, I went to Myrsina. It was here where I found Killian again. I recognised his ship when it came into port, but it was strange to see it flying the red flag of pirates. I wanted to to apologise for not getting the message to him in time.He took me aboard, no questions, and made me the ship’s cook. It was only once we had set sail again that he told me what had happened. The plant had killed Liam before they even had a chance to give it to Perrault and Killian was taking revenge, taking as much as he could from the King he had once been loyal to.” Jukes paused again, glancing at Emma to see if she had anything to say. “I’m telling you this, Swan, because I failed. I lost my eye, my job and my kingdom to warn them, and Liam still died. Killian still lost himself. But I don’t regret it. Some days I think about what would have happened if I had left it alone. Sure, having my sight would be better, but I know that every day I would think about what I could have done, how I could have tried to save them. You may fail getting your son back, but you’ll always know you did right by him. You won’t spend your life thinking about what could have been. If we can help you, I think you should stay with us. From what I’ve seen, Killian will try his hardest to make sure that you succeed.”

~~~*~~~

After hours spent sitting in silence, Jukes had escorted her back to the Jolly Roger. Everything she owned was still where she had left it, and as soon as she curled up in the captain’s bed, she felt like there never should even have been a decision. Her doubts had taken hold of her, but Juke’s words and his steady shoulder had brought her back, and she knew she could not leave.

She had fallen asleep almost instantly, her dream filled with memories, of Henry, of the feel of Hook’s hand against her own, his expression when she said she was leaving, Rumplestiltskin throwing her aside and taking her son away.

She was woken by the slam of the cabin door against the ship’s framework, a brief image of Hook holding her close, his hand tangled in her hair, burning across her eyelids until the real cabin swam into focus. Blinking, she turned to the doorway, eyes widening when she saw Hook standing in the doorway, his gaze locked on her.

“Emma,” he breathed, an expression she had never seen before dawning on his face, an expression that looked like wonder, as if he was in awe. “I thought you would be gone. I thought-” He didn’t finish his sentence, crossing the cabin in three long strides and taking her chin gently in his hand, tilting her head up so that they were staring into each other’s eyes, breath mingling in the small space between them. “I thought I would never see you again.”

“Well, I changed my mind.” she answered, his proximity making her too hot, too uncomfortable. “I decided it was best if I stayed with you.” He swallowed, leaning even closer to her, and Emma jolted away from him. “Now, you really shouldn’t be in here. Not right now.”

His hand hovered in mid-air for a second, but he lowered it back down to his side, a pained expression appearing fleetingly on his face. “Of course, Swan.” he stated, his voice halting as if he was trying to sound disinterested, but failing to hide the pleasure he felt at her return to his ship. “But surely we can give up the ridiculous charade now. You can finally retire that cloak. We’ll be heading back past the desert soon and I am certain that your cloak must have made that heat rather overwhelming.”

He left the cabin before she had the opportunity to say anything else, and Emma flopped, undignified, back down to the mattress. Her relationship with Hook had become something new, something she had never experienced before. They both had their own agendas, but their plans had merged, become something they were willing to work at together. Neither of them knew the full details of either, but Emma was certain she would stick by his side, help him, and she felt equally sure that he would do the same. It was this certainty that was new, trusting him to be by her side, to help her get her son back. She enjoyed their time spent together, how peaceful she felt with him, an ease she hadn’t felt since her first few weeks with Baelfire.

Except Hook was simply a friend.

She felt the lurch of the boat and peered out the window to see that the Jolly Roger was only just disembarking from Agrabah. Her stomach twisted when she realised that Hook must have waited to see if she was on board before setting off. He had wanted to make sure she was with him, that her goodbye in the bar had not been their final encounter.

Emma took the time to change, finally folding away Pinocchio’s ratty shirt and storing it in the drawer with all the scarves, choosing instead to wear another hunting outfit, the cut far more comfortable than what she had been wearing under the cloak. Her hair was loose, and for the first time since the journey begun, Emma felt entirely like herself.

Intending to join Hook upstairs, she was surprised to hear a knock at the door. It was the captain himself, his hair more windswept and eyes fixed intently on her. “I still need access to the room, love.” he stated, brushing her hip with his hand as he stepped past her. “Of course, you’re welcome to continue assisting in the kitchen. I’m sure Jukes would be more than happy to continue reciting my life story. It’s a long one, you’ll probably have to stay with him for a few more days.”

“Hook, I didn’t ask him to tell me.” Emma protested, seeing Hook slump down at the desk and open the thick book as if it was the very last thing he wanted to be doing. “But I needed him to tell me that. I was… After telling you about Henry, it just seemed too impossible to even try. I know it was your story to tell, but Jukes is part of that story too, and he reminded me that I couldn’t leave my son because I was having a few doubts. I couldn’t leave you.”

“Impossible?” Hook repeated, his eyes dim and still fixed on the book, a page Emma recognised. “I understand trying something that seems impossible. I’m trying to kill the Dark One, you think I haven’t had moments where I’ve wanted to call off my vendetta? Moments where I’ve thought that I’ve sent myself after a cause that can only end in failure?”

Hearing a note of distress lacing the pirate’s voice, Emma reached out to him, her hand laying on his shoulder and feeling him relax at her touch. “But it’s important to you. This vendetta, whatever reason you have for it, you would regret not trying far more than you would failing.” He swallowed, nodding and reaching up with his hand to grip hers.

“You have definitely been talking to Jukes.” he commented dryly, his thumb gently rubbing the back of her hand as he spoke.

Finally taking her usual seat next to him, she smiled warmly at him. “I know it’s hard to talk about but if you want to tell me about Liam, tell me what happened, I will listen. I’ve learnt about King Perrault and his crimes in history, and yet Jukes’ told me you were part of his navy, until you realised the sort of man he was.” She was prompting him to speak, yet her voice had become questioning, her need for him to explain just how he had managed to survive for so long escaping her.

“I suppose that does require some explanation.” Hook said with a bitter chuckle. “I’ve told you about other realms before, about men who have seen different worlds. I myself have travelled from the Enchanted Forest, I have seen worlds you weren’t even aware existed. And different worlds have different magic.”

He bit his lip, tongue running lightly across the faint teeth marks he left and distracting Emma for a few seconds.  “The plant that Liam and I searched for was not of this realm. Perrault had men travelling throughout the realms, looking for weapons he could use, ways to inflict pain. Liam and I were sent to Neverland, a place beyond the horizon, and it was here where Liam was injured. There was a cure, which I used without hesitating but Neverland’s magic comes with a price, just as it does here. As soon as we returned realm, the cure stopped.”

Emma’s breath shook, imagining just how relieved Hook must have been when he found out his brother was safe, was cured, only to have that dashed in seconds when he returned to the Enchanted Forest. Her fingers curled around his and he glanced up at her, his eyes red. “That’s not the only magic possessed by Neverland. Once there, time stops. I’ve spent centuries in Neverland.” Emma frowned, unable to understand why he would return to such a place, her thoughts distracted when he winked at her. “And to think that I returned here in time to find you.”

“Quite a coincidence.” Emma muttered, peering over him to get a better view of the book. It was the same page she had seen before, the elaborate drawing of the dagger surrounded by annotations and scribbles. “So, what are you trying to find?”

“A way to kill the Dark One for good. This dagger is the only thing that can kill him.”

“And you have it?”

Hook frowned at her, thumping the book shut. He stared at her for a few moments, and Emma could see different emotions racing through his eyes, a few she didn’t recognise mixed with the common looks of frustration and desperation. “On second thought, Emma, I think I’ll be spending most of the day on deck.”

Emma had not expected that response, and she sat still as he gently removed his hand from hers and stood up, chair scraping against the wooden floor. He didn’t even ask her to join him, simply turning on his heel and striding out of the room. She almost followed him but his emotions today seemed to be all over the place, and she decided to let him calm down, pulling the book over towards her instead and deciding to actually start reading it.

His notes were messy, but with a slight effort, she could make out what he had written. The dagger was not only the sole method for killing Rumplestiltskin, but also allowed the possessor of dagger to control him. In capital letters, it said that whoever killed the Dark One with the dagger would take the power for themselves, something that made using the dagger look far less appealing.

Hook had written a question, wondering if there was any way the Dark One’s curse could be broken, but it remained unanswered at the bottom of the page.

~~~*~~~

Emma had remained below deck all day, trying to find out as much as she could about Hook’s plan for defeating the Dark One. She wanted to help, as with the Dark One defeated, she would certainly have Henry back and she doubted the world would be a worse place without Rumplestiltskin in it. Hook’s latest focus seemed to be breaking the curse, something Emma doubted could occur by anything other than true love. She couldn’t imagine the Dark One having such a thing though, so she felt little need to mention that theory to Hook.

He hadn’t asked her any questions, having arrived in the evening with two bowls of food, making Emma laugh at the sudden role reversal. She had gathered they were going to eat in silence, as usual, but Hook had left her by herself in the cabin. With a sigh, she began to eat, wishing Hook was at her side, missing his companionship.

“Starting without me?” Emma turned to see Hook had returned, the silver music box she had given him held delicately in his hand. Seeing her gaze locked on the box, he brought it towards her, winding it up and opening it before placing it down in front of her.

“Why have you brought this here?” Emma asked, reaching out to brush a finger against the silver case, remembering when she would play it in order to lull her son to sleep, the music filling her with warmth. “I gave it to you as payment, remember?”

“I’m well aware.” Hook stated with a smile. “However, it’s my ship and I can store my things wherever I want. I thought this music box would fit best in here.”

Emma bit her lip, lifting her gaze from the music box to stare into the pirate’s eyes. He knew its importance to her now, and she felt almost overwhelmed at how easily he had given it back to her, allowing her to keep it by her side in the Captain’s cabin, without relinquishing it himself. “But it looked like it meant something to you too. Do you know the song?”

“I used to know someone who would sing it.” Hook answered, waving his hook in an attempt to brush away the question. “But this music box is what brought your memories back, and knowing that, I couldn’t keep it away from you. I suppose I will just have to spend even more time down here, with you.”

The lullaby played as they ate, Emma’s thoughts full of memories of Henry, of her desperation to find him, and once the song started to repeat, she reached out to shut the box. Hook caught her hand as she pulled it away, making her face him once again.

“Why do you let me stay here?” she asked, slightly breathless due to his intense stare. “In this cabin? Surely it should be yours, especially because you’re always working in here.”

“Would you believe me if I said it was because I don’t like to sleep where I work?” he offered, his eyes downcast as he tried to avoid the question.

“I wouldn’t believe you, but I wouldn’t question you any further.” Emma admitted, avoiding seeing his reaction by examining his hand, her fingers running gently across his skin. “We both have things we don’t like talking about.”

“I’ve worked on this ship for a long time, Emma.” he told her, her answer seemingly enough to persuade him to explain. “This cabin did not always belong to me.”

And then it all made sense. Liam had been Captain, she knew that much from Jukes, and surely he would have taken these rooms as his lodgings before his death. When she had been in Henry’s room, she had been filled with memories, emotions, and she could see now that a similar thing happened to Hook, his eyes dimmed as they fixed on the wall opposite the bed, lost in memories for a moment.

“It means a lot that you gave me this room. That you let me stay here.” she told him, eyes still on his hand. She felt his gaze return to her, but continued to examine his hand, his sleeve riding up slightly and revealing the edge of what appeared to be a tattoo. Without asking for permission, she pushed his sleeve up, unable to look away from the large heart, the name Milah written across it.

Milah? She had never heard anyone mention Milah before, the name unfamiliar to her, and she cautiously ran her finger across the word. “Milah? Who’s Milah?”

Hook pulled his arm away and Emma looked up, expecting a more hostile look on the pirate’s face, but instead he just seemed resigned. “Someone from a long time ago.”

“Is she the reason that you want to kill Rumplestiltskin?” she asked, and he nodded, not elaborating any further. “The reason you want to break his curse?”

He seemed confused at the second question, but Emma assumed it was because she knew more about his plan than he expected. “I know it’s not much help, but any curse can be broken by true love, even if there’s another way to break it. Not that the Dark One has a true love or anything. In fact, you probably didn’t even need to know that. Sorry.”

When she looked up, Hook looked utterly broken. He was glancing between her and his tattoo, his fist clenched tightly. “You’re right, Swan. That was something I did not need to know.” he spat out, Emma wondering what she had said to trigger such a mood. “True love can’t help me now.”

And with that, he was gone.

  



	9. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this one took longer than I was expecting. I hope you all enjoy this! Thanks for all the kudos and comments and a massive thanks to HawkEye733 for beta-reading.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I don't own OUAT or the related characters!

**Chapter 8**

After Hook’s abrupt exit the previous day, Emma really wasn’t certain what to expect. However, she had awoken to a hesitant knock on the door, and after she called out, Hook entered, two bowls of porridge in his hand. Having breakfast together was something new, something she found strange, but enjoyable. Despite propriety, she hadn’t even bothered to get dressed, instead wearing the long, baggy shirt of Pinocchio and ignoring how Hook occasionally glanced down her body, his gaze locking on her bare legs before he would look away determinedly, focussing instead on his own food.

“Maybe you would enjoy a new shirt.” he stated after a short silence, seemingly determined not to look at her. He fell quiet once again after that and breakfast was finished in comfortable silence, Hook apparently unaware of her curious looks at his now-covered forearm.

Once they were both finished eating, he simply stood and left the cabin. Emma waited for a few moments, expecting Hook to return and ask her to change, to let him in the cabin for another day of research, but when he didn’t show up after around half an hour, she realised Hook wasn’t planning on coming back. If he wasn’t going to try and figure out how to stop Rumplestiltskin, she would try instead.

Following this decision, she finally got dressed and then grabbed the thick book and her own sheet of parchment, determined to make her own notes, to come up with a way for Hook to break the curse. If he needed the curse broken to kill the Dark One, he must not be in possession of the dagger, and there was no way to simply make true love’s kiss happen. There had to be another way to break the curse, something like a charm or an incantation.

By the end of the day, she was pretty certain that if there was such a thing, no one knew about it.

Emma didn’t want to give up, but when Hook entered the room, he walked directly to her and closed the book, pushing it aside to put a steaming bowl of stew in front of her. “I think you’ve read enough for today, love.” he muttered, his gaze locked on the leather cover of the book. “I was hoping you would have joined me on deck for a while. The weather was rather dazzling.”

“I thought that seeing as you weren’t going to research today than I would take over.” She told him with a shrug. “I think I know why you want revenge, and I want to help.”

“You know?” Hook asked warily, his knuckles whitening as he tightened his grip on the cutlery he had brought with him. “Really?”

Emma took the food from him, waiting for him to join her at the table before she continued speaking. “Your tattoo. Milah.” she started, giving him a searching look as he moved his arm away from her. “You loved her, didn’t you? And Rumplestiltskin did something to her, that’s why you want him dead.” She watched his expression darken, but he kept his gaze locked on her as he began to eat. “I don’t know what it would be like to have someone hurt the person you love, but I do know how it feels to lose them.”

“So you’ve been in love before then?”

Emma frowned slightly at him, having hoped that bringing up Milah would end up with him telling her more about his past, but instead he seemed to have tensed up. His eyes were darker, his jaw clenched, and instead he seemed to have become more interested in talking about her past, perhaps considering it to be a distraction from the thought of Milah. She didn’t want to talk about Baelfire, but seeing as she was expecting him to open up, perhaps it would be fair for her to talk first.

But she had never told anyone about Baelfire before. If she told Hook, he would know more about her than anyone, the only secret left for him to uncover would be her status as princess, and the thought of anyone knowing that much about her was terrifying.

She looked back up at him, the now-familiar understanding in his expression washing all her fears away and she simply nodded at him. He seemed taken aback by the fact that she had actually responded to his question, and Emma realised that he had not expected anything from her except a quick answer.

“He was Henry’s father.” She started, and she smiled weakly when she saw how Hook turned all his attention towards her. “I met him when I was visiting one of the villages near my house and well, we just started spending lots of time together. He would come and visit me at home, take me out for walks in the woods and, well, I loved him. I mean, I think I loved him. One morning though, he was just gone.”

“And you had Henry.” Hook finished for her, a scowl on his face. “Did he ever find out?”

“I never found him.” Emma admitted with a swallow. “I mean, I looked. At first, I just wanted to tell him before anyone else and then, once I realised that he really had just abandoned me, and that I had to tell my parents everything, I wanted him to be found so my parents could, I don’t know, do something. My parents asked around, as did I, but no one found him. Baelfire had disappeared.”

Hook had started when Emma mentioned Baelfire’s name, his hook clanging against the terracotta bowl. “Baelfire? Henry’s father was called Baelfire?” he asked, looking shocked. “And he left you?”

“Yeah. That’s what happened.” she answered, disregarding Hook's strange reaction to the name. “It’s not exactly something I like to think about, but lately, I think I’ve understood why he left.”

The final sentence escaped her lips before she had even thought it through. She had ignored the revelation that Baelfire was Rumplestiltskin’s son, but talking about it now, the memories at the front of her mind, his sudden disappearance, the strange feelings of desperation she had felt from him during their final night together, everything made sense.

“Would you like to tell me why he left?” Hook asked cautiously, sitting further away from her than he had before. “I’m assuming Baelfire had a reason, though I dare say it would have to be a very good one to warrant leaving you, i can’t imagine what could be reason enough to leave you.”

Emma’s breath caught, Hook’s words and intense expression causing her mind to go blank. She hadn’t intended to tell him the truth, unsure how he would react to the fact that her own son was Rumplestiltskin’s grandson, but she was currently incapable of saying anything.

Hook seemed to take her silence as a sign that she didn’t want to speak about Baelfire anymore. As she tried to regain her ability to talk, Hook reached below his chair and pulled out what seemed to be a folded piece of black fabric. “Well, Swan, I thought that instead of waiting until we reach the next port to get a shirt, surely it would be preferable for you to take this instead.”

She swallowed again, covering it up with a quick laugh. “I don’t need a new shirt. The one I have now is fine.”

“Well, love, I know which shirt I would rather you wear.” Hook stated, but instead of the wink Emma was expecting, he simply brushed her hair aside with his hook before collecting the now-cold food and striding from the room.

Emma sighed, the memories of Baelfire still weighing down on her. She watched the sunset through the porthole, waiting until the cabin was almost dark before she stood from the table and got ready for bed, Hook’s shirt hanging off her frame, not even thinking of Pinocchio’s shirt that was rolled up in a drawer under the bed.

~~~*~~~

As much as Emma intended to keep researching, each day she seemed to spend less time in the cabin. Hook determined to keep having breakfast with her, having joined her the morning after she had told him of Baelfire, and she could still remember the dumbfounded expression that had crossed his face when he realised she was wearing the shirt he had given her. He had quickly recovered though, stating that he definitely needed to make their breakfasts a regular thing and quickly glancing over her body before joining her at the table and acting as if nothing was different.

For two weeks, Emma settled into her new routine. Breakfast with Hook, then she would spend a couple of hours reading through his notes and making notes of her own until she decided to join Hook on deck, talking about anything that struck her mind as she stood between him and the ship’s wheel, his arms around her as he slowly taught her how to steer. They had done this before, but it had become a common occurrence, Emma tending to enjoy their proximity until the sun was low in the sky and she retreated back to the galley to help Jukes prepare the food for the crew. Hook would meet her in the kitchen, accompanying her back to the cabin where they would eat together, continuing whatever conversation they had been having earlier in the day.

During one of the hottest days Emma had ever experienced, a sign that they were progressing along the coast of the desert, she had retreated below deck earlier than usual, able to feel her skin reddening due to the heat. When Hook arrived with food, he had placed the plates down and then wound up the silver music box, the soft tinkling lullaby filling the cabin, making the atmosphere even more relaxed, more comfortable than usual.

Listening to the music, however, led to a meal spent almost entirely in silence. When Hook had finished, he cleared his throat, drawing Emma’s attention towards him. “Milah always sang this.” he mentioned, a shake in his voice belying his attempt at making the topic seem offhand. “That’s what convinced me to allow you on board when we first met. It seemed as if it was a sign.”

“Do you often take things as a sign?” Emma asked, turning towards him when she understood that he had finally decided to tell her about Milah, the woman he had once loved.

“I’m was a sailor, Emma, I can be superstitious.” he pointed out, clenching his fist and biting his lip, making Emma realise that he was preparing himself to begin his tale. “But I suppose I find it difficult to turn down those who ask for my help.”

“So Milah travelled with you too? She wanted your help?”

“I was young, barely twenty-one when I first saw her. We’d stopped at a port and I had gone to the tavern for a drink. She approached me because she could tell I was a pirate and thought I would have wonderful stories to tell. I thought she was beautiful and I wanted to tell her everything, so I did.We were meant to leave port the following day but I wanted to see her again, so as captain, I told the crew that we had to stay for a few more days.” He smiled softly, his eyes distant as he reminisced. “We were docked for an entire week and Milah came to the tavern every night. I planned on asking her to join us, to accompany me and the crew when we returned to the seas, but that very evening, her husband followed her to the tavern. As did her son.”

Emma frowned at him, not having expected Hook to say anything like that. From the expression on his face as he remembered, she could tell that he had not known about Milah’s commitments until they had appeared in front of him. “And did you take her with you anyway? You already loved her, didn’t you?

Hook glanced up at her, eyes slightly narrowed as he assessed her, as if he thought she would be judging him, disapproving his choice. “Maybe you’ll be happy to know that I decided to leave port without her. I’ve told you that my father abandoned me and I didn’t want to cause another child to be abandoned the same way I was. So, the next morning, I told the crew that we had to get ready to depart, but when I went onto the dock to unmoor the Jolly Roger, Milah was there. She begged me to take her, told me that she hated her life with her husband, that he was a coward who had deserted in the Ogre Wars and refused to leave the village to start a new life with her, to go somewhere where he wasn’t the village coward and she and her son weren’t ridiculed for their attachment to him.” Hook scoffed, biting his lip and raising his eyebrows at her, clearly expecting her to look disappointed. “Look, Swan, perhaps it wasn’t the best reason to take her with me, to forget about her family, but I wanted her to be with me. Once she had shown up, I was assured she had similar feelings to me. Perhaps I should be ashamed to admit it, but I would have taken any reason to be with her.”

Emma had questions, ones she was reluctant to voice, but Hook was remaining quiet, an expectant look on his face. She exhaled, unsure how Hook would react to what she was about to say. “Look, Hook, I don’t want to say this, but did you ever wonder if she was with you just to escape her family? To have adventures of her own?”

To Emma’s surprise, Hook chuckled. “Emma, I was young but not naive, and I have had more than enough time to think about every single thing Milah did during our time together. Of course I’ve considered that Milah decided I was the man she could convince to take her away from the life she hated, and maybe that was her original plan. Still, I know that, even if she didn’t at the beginning, Milah loved me as much as I loved her. Even then, once she had been brought onto my ship, I thought about her son and I considered insisting that she should stay behind, to tell her that if she still wanted to go when I was next in port, then I would take her. Then her husband arrived.”

“But you ended up leaving with her anyway. He didn’t try to get her back.”

“I believe he was hoping that simply showing up would result in her return. I wanted Milah to be happy, but as much as I wanted to be with her, I knew I had to give him a chance to show that he wasn’t as cowardly as she thought, one more chance to keep a family together. I insinuated that I had taken Milah on to my ship to use as a common whore and that if he wanted to keep her, all he had to was fight me for her. He ran, chose his own life over fighting to protect his wife from a group of cruel pirates. If he wasn’t willing to even try and protect her from that, he didn’t deserve her.”

“And you were happy together until you ran into Rumplestiltskin?”

“Unfortunately, it was more complicated than that. We spent almost a decade roaming the seas, being pirates together, enjoying spending our time together, traversing the kingdom until we heard of an opportunity to obtain a magic bean, a way to take our travels even further, to go to another realm. It was our misfortune, however, that during our time exploring, her husband had become the Dark One.” A dark expression settled across his face and he began to spit out his words. “No longer was he the coward who couldn’t fight for his wife. Instead he was the coward who hid behind power and fear to ensure he never needed to be brave again. It’s not bravery when no one can hurt you.”

“Her husband was Rumplestiltskin?” Emma repeated, her brain trying to connect everything he had said but Hook continued before she could ask anything else.

“He was looking for the magic bean as well, a coincidence that led to the two of us meeting once again. He first tried to kill me but Milah convinced him otherwise, promising him the bean if he allowed the two of us to go free, to go together. Instead, he ripped her heart out and crushed it in front of me.”

Hook fell silent and released a ragged breath. Emma bit her lip and reached out to lay a hand on his arm, at a loss for anything to say, instead she caressed his arm with her thumb, waiting for him to keep speaking. “And then he took your hand as well? Didn’t he?”

He nodded in confirmation, the darkness withdrawing from his expression when his gaze locked with hers. “I swore that I would get revenge even if it took centuries to discover a way to kill him. I returned to Neverland, a place I had told myself that I would never return to, in an attempt to gain more time.”

Emma kept her eyes locked with his as she moved her hand from his arm to rest on the leather encasing his stump. “I’m sorry, Killian.” she murmured, ignoring his sharp intake of breath. “I can’t imagine what it must have been like. And it’s selfish, but if none of that had happened, I would never have met you and I am so glad that I did.”

She raised her eyes again, feeling almost shy when she met his stare once again, her breath halting at the look in his eyes. For a moment, she thought he was looking at her adoringly, but that was impossible. Not only had no one ever adored her, but they had just spent their time talking about Milah, the woman he loved so much that he had spent centuries in Neverland searching for a way to get revenge. “Does it bother you that I loved Baelfire’s mother? I even spent a while with Baelfire himself. Demonstrates our rather spectacular age difference, doesn’t it?”

“I realised Milah was his mother the moment you told me that her husband was Rumplestiltskin.” she told him with a shrug. “Besides, until just now, I didn’t even know Baelfire was far older than he appeared. Your past isn’t going to change how I feel about you.”

There was an audible gulp and Hook leant towards her, his eyes searching hers. “How you feel about me?”

Emma looked away, swallowing nervously. She hadn’t even thought about what she had said, the words escaping her without even thinking. She didn’t know how to respond so instead of speaking, she released his wrist and collected the dishes before moving towards the door, unsure how to cope with the sudden change in the atmosphere.

“Emma?” Hook hadn’t moved from the table, but he was staring at her. “Where are you going? This is your room.”

“It’s hot in here.” Emma explained quickly, darting out the room and leaning against the closed door. That conversation had not gone the way she had expected it to.

~~~*~~~

_“The guards seem much busier than usual.”_

_Emma was so used to Baelfire sneaking into her room that the unexpected voice didn’t even make her jump. Instead, a wide smile crossed her face and she closed the door, locked it, and turned to run towards him. He gathered her into his arms, giving her a quick kiss on the forehead before raising an eyebrow at her in question._

_“We have an escaped prisoner, so all the guards are combing through the castle.” she answered, giggling softly when he loosened his grip and pulled her towards the chaise longue. “But we all know that he’s long gone by now.”_

_“Who is it? What did he even do?” Baelfire asked, relaxing against the cushions and allowing her to make herself comfortable, arms still wrapped loosely around her waist. “I mean, he must be rather bad to get such a search party.”_

_“Well, no one was really expecting it.” Emma explained, biting her lip anxiously. “I mean, Rumplestiltskin has been locked up for so long, I don’t think anyone knew he could escape.”_

_His arms fell away from her and Emma twisted around to see a frown on his face. “Rumplestiltskin?” he repeated, and Emma guessed that he had heard of the famous imp. “He’s free? He’s not in jail anymore.”_

_“No.” Emma answered, wondering what would make Baelfire so nervous. “Did you make a deal with him? Do you think he’ll do something to you?”_

_Baelfire shook his head, reminding Emma slightly of a dog shaking away water, and then pulled her tightly against him once more. “Emma. I know it’s not been too long, but you do know I love you, don’t you?”_

_Emma beamed, the love declaration completely unexpected, and turned to face him. “I love you too. If there’s one thing I’ve learnt from my parents, it’s that you don’t need to know each other for too long to know that it’s true love.”_

_Baelfire looked slightly taken aback, as if he hadn’t expected her to so readily return the sentiment, or to mention the possibility of true love. Once he had recovered, he pulled her close to him and kissed her, the urgency of it shocking her but when his hand skimmed up her bodice she couldn’t deny the thrill it sent through her. When he finally pulled away from her, lowering his head to place his lips on her collarbone, Emma fought to catch her breath._

_“Emma,” he murmured, breathing the word into her skin. She thought she heard a question in his voice and she nudged his head, waiting for him to meet her gaze before she leaned in for an playful peck on the end of his nose. Baelfire huffed out a deep chuckle, looking hesitant for a few seconds before pressing a warm kiss to her jaw. She sensed the open sincerity in his touch and was captivated by his next words, lips brushing her skin as he spoke. “Emma, let me love you.”_

~~~*~~~

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

Emma looked up from the chopping board, frowning slightly when she saw Hook standing in the entrance to the galley. He chuckled as she glanced around, hoping to see Jukes somewhere in the small room, but he had clearly left when she wasn’t paying attention.

“I simply wanted to inform you that we will soon be arriving in Myrsina. We’ll dock for the night and then continue towards Sherwood once we have stocked up on food.” He said stiltedly, and Emma wondered if he had expected a different response to his previous statement. “I was going to ask if you wanted to join me in the tavern, as we’ve done previously, but perhaps I should have guessed that to be too hopeful.”

Emma looked away, feeling slightly guilty that she had run from him after he told her everything about Milah, but knowing she had been unable to cope with the sudden emotions that had surfaced when he had trusted her with the tale. “It’s not too hopeful.” she told him, trying to sound offhand, but unable to prevent a smile when she saw the grin crossing his face. “But maybe we should keep the conversation less intense.”

“Talk about adventures?” he suggested with a wry grin. “I guarantee that I’ve told you almost all of my adventures and the ones I haven’t told you aren’t interesting enough to warrant wasting time with them.”

“Well, we could talk about the adventures that we’ll have once you’ve had your revenge.” she suggested jokingly, but fell silent when she felt Hook’s hand close around her arm and allowed him to turn her around gently. “Think of places we could go to with Henry.”

“With Henry?” Hook repeated, the expression on his face unreadable. However, Emma felt a strange, almost bittersweet feeling when he gave her a sad smile. “I don’t know how many adventures we’ll manage after Rumplestiltskin’s gone, but I suppose it would be nice to have something to look forward to.”

Emma nodded, her throat closing up when she remembered that she would never be able to stay with Hook after Henry was back with her. She had to return to her kingdom eventually, and once her son was back at her side, there would be no reason for her to be crossing the realm. Once Henry was with them, their time together would come to end.

It would be hard to say goodbye.


	10. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I hope you enjoy this chapter and thanks to everyone who left kudos or comments last chapter! There won't be another update for a couple of weeks because I'm going away! Big thanks to HawkEye733 for beta-ing!
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I don't own OUAT or the related characters.

**Chapter 9**

The Myrsina docks were emptier than the other ports they had visited, a soft light washing over the waterfront when Emma left the Jolly Roger. Hook was waiting for her, arms folded as he leant against a bollard. The orange glow of the few lanterns danced across him, and the sight of him made her breath catch, halting in her path as she stared at him. He grinned over at her, pushing himself upright and walking over to her to take her arm in his.

“I have to say, Swan, I was hoping this cloak wouldn’t be making a reappearance.” he stated, using his hook to carefully pull the hood away from her face. “Why have you decided to wear it? I would much rather be able to see your face when we’re at the tavern.”

Emma sighed, but used her free hand to pull her cloak more tightly around her. “I wish I didn’t have to wear it too, but there’s a chance that people here may know me.” she told him, remembering her visits to Myrsina when she was younger. “And I don’t particularly want to be recognised. It will be hard to save Henry when I’m being sent back home.”

“You’ve been here before then, I assume?”

Emma nodded in agreement, letting Hook lead her through the town as she pointed out things that she recognised from previous visits to the seaside town. He would either nod in agreement, telling his own anecdotes about his visits, or point out places she had missed. Sometimes, Hook would point to something completely ordinary and regale her with a ridiculous tale that he had made up, his grin widening whenever she laughed at what he had said.

Towards the end of the promenade, Hook stopped walking, forcing Emma to halt as well. He was staring at something hung on the wall of a nearby stall, but Hook was positioned so that his body blocked it from view. He turned back to her, giving her a searching look before using his hook once again to adjust her cloak, this time arranging the hood so that her face was covered from view. He ignored her confused expression and started to walk once more, Emma following him before she could see what had caused his sudden stop.

“Apparently, the princess of this kingdom is missing.” he stated after a few minutes of silence. “The king and queen are offering a rather huge reward for anyone who knows of her location.”

So that was what he had seen. Emma jerked her arm away from him, ignoring how he reached out for her, and turned back to go look at the poster. Her eyes widened when she saw the amount of gold being offered in exchange for information about her whereabouts, even more money promised upon her safe return. More than enough gold to make a pirate interested in either returning her home or asking for an even larger ransom.

“That’s a lot of gold.” she stammered, Hook finally stepping in front of the poster and meeting her gaze. “Enough gold to make a pirate interested in searching for the lost princess?”

Hook shrugged, his wide eyed, boyish expression negated by the way he wiggled his eyebrows at her, followed by a flirtatious grin, a  look he hadn’t worn in a few weeks. “Love, you’re worth a bit more than that. I’m going to hold out for a better offer.”

She rolled her eyes, but couldn’t hold in a delighted laugh at his response. “What?” she asked, ignoring how his eyes had lit up at her reaction. “Hook, that’s more gold than most people see in their entire lives and you haven’t even considered taking me back?”

“Emma.” he stated, his voice low as if trying to keep anyone from hearing her name, and Emma swallowed at the sincerity in his expression. “I wouldn’t send you back for any amount of gold.”

She bit her lip, uncertain how to respond, if she even wanted to respond, feeling him step slightly closer to her and hold the hood of her cloak so that he could see her face, her identity still hidden from anyone who happened to pass by. She glanced away from him, feeling too warm, too overwhelmed, wanting Hook to step away, to step closer. She forced out a laugh, hoping to spur Hook into doing something, she wasn’t sure what. “You’re being ridiculous.” she whispered and his mouth quirked into a soft smile.

“Ridiculous?” he repeated, his good hand reaching up to cup her face gently in his hand, keeping Emma from looking away from him. “No, Emma. Having you with me is worth more than all the gold in the world.”

She leant away from him, watching as his arms dropped to his side. She forced out a laugh, trying to play off what he said as if he was joking, but he looked so serious, so intense, that she couldn’t pretend, couldn’t act like he wasn’t talking to her, looking at her, as if she was the most important thing in his life.

When had he started looking at her like that?

She cleared her throat, pulling her gaze away from the pirate and hurrying away in the direction of the tavern, glancing back briefly to see Hook run a hand down his face and bite his lip before following her.

Emma reached the tavern first, pushing the door open ahead of her and leaning against the wall. Hook arrived soon after, turning to face her once he was through the door. He sighed and then sent a resigned smile towards her, gesturing his hook towards a couple of empty stools by the bar. “If you still want to, of course.” he stated wryly, waiting for her to move first.

By the time Hook had joined her, Emma had ordered two glasses of rum, her attention drawn to the loud conversation of the barmen. It was the first time since leaving the castle that she had heard her parents mentioned, and suddenly she was desperate to hear how they were, that everything had been okay since her disappearance.

She held a hand up to keep Hook silent, leaning slightly closer to the conversation in an attempt to figure out what they were talking about. From what she could pick up over the noise of the crowd, the main topic was about low supplies in Myrsina. Produce was being sent across the kingdom, to the border of the Evil Queen’s lands. Emma swallowed, unable to make much more out, but knowing that if food and supplies were being sent to the east, that meant that it was as she had feared. The war with the Evil Queen had restarted, the ceasefire finished because she had left Graham, left home.

Emma stiffened, turning away from the noise and downing her rum. She couldn’t get caught up in everything she had left behind. Her parents had maintained a stalemate with the queen for thirty years, they could keep her armies at bay for long enough for Emma to return with her son.

She motioned for another glass, but Hook gently grasped her hand before she could catch the attention of anyone. “I heard what they were saying too, Swan.” he murmured. “And I might not know the exact specifics of your departure, but I know what you’re thinking. This war is not your fault.”

“Not my fault?” Emma repeated, making sure to keep her voice low, even if it meant Hook had to move closer. “I agreed to marry Graham because I was told our marriage would lead to a peace treaty. No marriage, no peace. It’s as simple as that.”

“No, it’s not.” Hook stated, biting his lip slightly and looking down, something Emma knew to be a sign that Hook was considering saying something that he knew she probably would not want to hear. “Swan. I know Regina. Do you really believe that she would have kept that agreement? Your running away just gave her an excuse to restart the war sooner.”

Emma’s eyes widened and she glanced at him, fixated on the fact that he had admitted to knowing the queen, had called her by her actual name. “How do you know the Evil Queen?”

“It was a long time ago, lass.” Hook told, rubbing his thumb against his nose, clearly trying to figure out what to say. “We happened to run into each other and ended up making a deal. I didn’t complete my side of the bargain and, long story short, I believe a meeting between the two of us would end in disaster.”

“What deal?”

“I’ve been a pirate for over three hundred years. I’ve done many things that would make an evil queen interested in making arrangements with me, and you really do not need to know what that entailed.” he bit out, giving her an intense look and shifting even nearer to her. “I don’t regret what I did. And in case you were concerned, I am in no way allied with her now.”

He was telling the truth. Emma wanted to know more, know what he had done, but he had moved away, clearly done with that topic of conversation. She sighed, leaning against the counter and glancing around the tavern, knowing that if she spoke, Hook would be inundated with questions on his past with Regina, and she wanted to keep quiet until he was ready to tell her.

She heard Hook cough slightly, trying to get her attention, and she tilted her head toward him, not ready to look at him yet. “Emma, love, you said you didn’t want intense conversations.” he pointed out, and she knew that if she turned to looking at him, he would be raising his eyebrows at her. “How about leaving this realm once my revenge is complete? I’m sure your son would enjoy that.”

“I thought that it was hard to travel between realms.” she asked, turning around when she heard his suggestion. “I mean, from what you had said, I assumed that it wasn’t particularly easy to go to whichever realm you chose to visit.”

“Not if you know the right people.” Hook told her with a small chuckle. “We could go anywhere you wanted. I know of a few worlds but I am sure there are countless places that we could explore together.”

“So are there any you would want to return to?” she asked, deciding that further tales of his adventures would be a safe enough topic. “I’m guessing not Neverland. You’ve probably spent long enough there.”

Hook’s laugh this time was louder, deeper, more vibrant than any she had heard from him before. The openness she saw there lit a warmth within her that meant she couldn’t help beaming back at him. “You would be right about that.” He stated with an exaggerated grimace. “And I assure you it is not somewhere you want to take your son to either. In fact, I wouldn’t recommend either realm I’ve visited.”

“What other realm have you been to?” she asked, edging back towards him. “What was so bad about it?”

“Wonderland.” Hook answered. “Don’t let the name fool you. There’s nothing wonderful about it. I was out of there as soon as I had the chance. There are far too many odd things in that place. However, there are so many more realms out there that we can visit. Escape whatever responsibilities we both have here.”

“And how exactly do you expect us to do that?”

“It helps that I know the right person.” Hook stated with a wink. “There’s only one man in the entire realm who can help us go to whichever realm we want, and it happens that I am rather good friends with him. I suppose we would have to leave the Jolly Roger behind though.”

“You would never leave your ship.” Emma told him with a roll of her eyes. “You are not going to go exploring without it.”

“Maybe I would.” Hook muttered, and as casual as his voice sounded, his eyes had locked on hers, the piercing blue darker than usual, captivating her. “If I was with the right person.”

Emma couldn’t stop the slightly exasperated look she sent him, amused at how he had managed to revert the atmosphere to the stifling one she had tried to escape earlier. He grinned at her in response, his slightly slumped shoulders making him look far more relaxed than she had seen him in weeks, more at ease than he had ever looked, even when standing at the helm with the sea breeze mussing his hair. Her eyes softened and without a moment to catch her breath and think about what she was doing, she had moved even closer and placed a kiss against his cheek, his stubble tickling her as she lingered there, feeling his breath stop. Emma pulled back slightly, barely an inch away from him, and opened her eyes slowly, looking up to meet his stare. He glanced down at her lips briefly and she swallowed, feeling his hand rest on her waist for only a second before he pulled away from her, looking almost regretful.

She exhaled, suddenly relieved that he hadn’t kissed her, not ready to deal with whatever feelings she knew would have become clear once she felt his lips on hers. As long as Henry was her main concern, she could keep all her muddled, confusing feelings locked away.

“You’re not ready.” Hook murmured, quiet enough for Emma to think that he didn’t intend for her to hear. She breathed in, reaching out to lace her fingers with his as she drew his attention back to her.

“I know we haven’t been here too long but I think I might go back to the Jolly Roger now.” she told him, her breath catching when he simply looked understanding. “I don’t want to risk being recognised, so… I did have a nice time.”

His fingers tightened briefly around hers as he gave her a abrupt nod, his jaw tensing as he looked down, as if he wanted to say something, and from the look in his eyes, she could tell whatever it was was bound to be important, but he simply raised her hand to his lips. He pressed a fleeting kiss to the back of her hand, keeping eye contact the whole time, the same way he had when they had met in the tavern in Bismagar. “I would walk you back, love, but I think I’m going to stay here for a few more drinks.” he stated, finally gesturing for the barman to send more drinks his way. “Unless you want me to accompany you back to the ship.”

“I’ll be fine, Killian.” she told him, finally removing her hand from his grip and adjusting her cloak around her shoulders. “I’ll see you for breakfast, yes?”

Hook didn’t quite meet her eyes, a sad smile on his face as he took his next drink from the barman. He raised his hook in a short wave that Emma wasn’t sure whether to interpret as a goodbye or a dismissal. His voice was subdued as he told her, “Get back home, Emma.”

~~~*~~~

Hook never showed for breakfast, stating that he had eaten earlier when she finally found him at the helm and asked him where he had been that morning. She had stood nearby for a few minutes, waiting for him to offer to continue teaching her how to sail, even though they both knew that she was more than capable of sailing without help, but Hook had told her Jukes needed help below deck.

Emma felt as if they had gone back to the days just after she boarded the ship, being instructed to remain in the galley and spending very little time together. She hated his new attitude towards her, sure it linked  back to whatever it was he had been unable to say in the tavern, but decided to give him some time, wait for him to tell her.

After a week of the same, however, Emma was furious. As confused as he could make her feel, she had never wanted them to stop spending time together, to go back to being two people who happened to be on the same ship. Instead, she wanted to know what was bothering him, what had made him pull away from her and she was going to ask him, demand an explanation, as soon as the sun had risen the following morning.

How would she even start that conversation? Possible sentences swam through her head as she changed into his shirt, curling up under the blanket and watching the sun hide behind the horizon. The more she thought about it, tried to come up with a tactful way of initiating the discussion, the angrier she got.

Finally, without any plan at all, she threw the blanket off and left the room, striding towards the door to Hook’s own quarters. She didn’t knock, simply pushing the door open and raising an eyebrow at him when she saw him, midway through taking his leather waistcoat off, his eyes wide and locked on her.

For a few moments, she didn’t say a word, glancing around the small cabin instead, when she realised she had never actually seen inside his room. There was a large bed filling most of the space, leaving very little room for Hook to do anything other than get ready for bed, a few old drawings nailed to the wood panelling of the walls. She inhaled slowly, the charcoal drawings depicting a beautiful woman, lines drawn with an attentive, flowing grace. Emma realised that this must be Milah, the woman he still looked at every night in the room that they had shared all those years ago. She quickly focused her eyes back on Hook instead, finding that, despite her anger, she preferred to keep her gaze on him.

“What are you doing here, Swan?” Hook asked, looking away from her and finishing removing his waistcoat. “It’s late.”

“I just want to know why you don’t talk to me anymore.” she forced out, not sure if that was the best way to start the confrontation. “Because nothing happened and suddenly you’re acting as if I’m just any other passenger on this ship. You said you’d help me get Henry back! What, are you giving up because you can’t figure out how to break the Dark One’s curse?”

“Emma, you don’t even know what you’re talking about!” Hook said, his voice raised just enough for him to sound angrier than usual, but not loud enough for the crew to be privy to every word. “I’m not breaking _his_ curse.”

Emma paused, looking at him in confusion. “If you don’t want to break his curse, then why did you spend so long searching for a way to do it? That doesn’t even make any sense.”

“I need to kill him, Emma. The only way to do that is to use his dagger and I’m sure that you know exactly what happens when I do that.” He bit out and Emma’s mind flashed back to the many words she had read over the past months. “I kill him, I become the Dark One. I don’t want that curse. I don’t want that dark magic. The only ways I can be free of that curse are true love or death.”

“So you’ve decided there’s no hope.” she asked, stepping closer to him, relieved when he finally met her eyes. “No chance of true love’s kiss?”

Hook stared at her intently for a few moments, searching for something, and she wasn’t sure what it was that he expected to find, but he gritted his teeth and looked away. “We’ll save your son, Emma. But I am not going to live as the Dark One.”

Emma staggered back, his admittance overwhelming her. She watched him lick his bottom lip, wishing she could see his eyes and figure out exactly what he was thinking. Suddenly desperate to understand, she reached out to grip his sleeve, pulling him around to face her. “But why have you given up hope now?”

“He killed my true love, Emma. I don’t have any hope.” his voice caught uncertainly and his eyes darted away. “Why do you think I stopped researching? I found nothing!”

“You stopped researching weeks ago. What? You’ve known for weeks and its only now that you’ve bothered to tell me. Why are you pushing me away now?”

“Because we spent that night in Myrsina talking about a future, Emma.” he spat, jerking his arm so that she was pulled closer to him, their chests almost touching and his hard gaze boring into her. “And I knew it was all just a dream. For both of us. Do you really believe that you can simply leave this place? You’re a princess and princesses don’t go on adventures with pirates.”

Emma swallowed, feeling tears prick the corners of her eyes when his statements sunk in. “So why play along? False hope is worse than no hope at all.”

Hook looked ashamed, his hook tracing small circles against her waist, and despite their conversation, Emma took comfort in his proximity. “For a moment, I wanted to believe that I actually had a future outside of my revenge. I regretted the pretense as soon as you left.”

“And so you stopped talking to me.” she mumbled, and he moved even closer to hear her. “What, do you think that if you ignore me I won’t be bothered by the fact that you’re planning to die?”

Saying it out loud was the moment it really sunk in and she pushed him away, his hook scraping her lightly as it fell away from her. “I didn’t want to hurt you.” he insisted, watching her as she turned away and opened the cabin door, unable to accept the information. Just before she left the door, she felt a tug on her sleeve, his hook snagging the fabric and keeping her from leaving. “I never wanted to have to ask you this, Emma, but if the power changes me before I can, well, do what I need, I want you to remind me. Make sure I don’t become the man I hate.”

“You don’t want to hurt me?” Emma shouted, forcefully stepping away and ignoring the rip as his hook tore through her sleeve. “If you didn’t want to hurt me, how could you even ask me to do that?”

“Emma?”

She slammed the door before he could say anything else, running back to the captain’s cabin and listening out in case he had followed her but she heard no footsteps. Reassured that Hook wasn’t going to burst in, she sank to the floor with her back to the wall, desperate not to cry but in the solitude of her room she was unable to stop the tears from sliding down her face. As the sobs began to shudder through her whole body she buried her face in her arms, trying to muffle the sound in case anyone else happened to walk past her door.

Although Hook was only metres away, she felt as if she’d already lost him.


	11. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I hope you all enjoy this! Thanks for all the kudos and bookmarks and comments! Updates may be sporadic for a while, what with it being exam season, so I hope this is enough for a while! As usual, big thanks to HawkEye733 for beta-ing.
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I don't own OUAT or the related characters.

# Chapter 10

Despite the size of the ship, it was easy to stay away from Hook. They both seemed keen to stay away from one another, Hook staying away from the galley and captain’s cabin and Emma refusing to go on deck. Hours she had once spent with Hook had become lonely, leading to her seeking out Jukes’ company.

As happy as Jukes was to spend time with her, it wasn’t the same. Jukes was aware of Hook’s plan, admitting he had known all along. “I thought perhaps you could change his mind.” he had told her after a week of avoiding Hook, a casual comment as he was cooking the evening meal. “I hate this plan as much as you do. He’s been like a son to me for centuries. I never wanted his life to be defined by revenge.”

“You didn’t try to talk him out of it?” Emma asked, barely focussing on Jukes’ answer and placing all her concentration on chopping carrots as neatly as she could.

“It’s too late for me.” Jukes admitted with a heavy sigh. “I have known about his need for revenge for three hundred years, Swan. I could have told him long ago, but I’ve let him get further and further into his plans, and I can no longer say anything. Not after this long.”

“I think it’s too late for anyone.” Emma bit out, a slither of carrot flying to the floor after a particularly vicious slice. “He’s had his mind set on revenge for so long, I don’t think he can even consider doing something else, _wanting_ anything else.”

“I think Killian wants many things, Swan.” Jukes murmured, pausing as he tasted a small spoonful of stew. “He just doesn’t believe he can have them, thinks he doesn’t deserve them.” He turned and gave her an appraising look. “But I think its only been recently that he’s started wanting something more than his revenge.”

Emma bit her lip, determinedly ignoring Jukes final sentence. “Doesn’t deserve them?”

“Killian used to call himself a man of honour, Swan.” Jukes answered, seemingly amused by her dismissal of what he had just said. “But it’s been decades since I heard such a phrase from him.”

Another slither of carrot flew to the floor before Emma placed the knife loudly on the table and turned to Jukes with an incredulous look. “That’s silly.” she stated loudly, struggling to swallow as she considered why it was only now Hook had decided to push her away; that now, more than ever before, he was torn between his revenge and a future. He may have said that their distance was to stop her from being hurt, but she had no doubt that by keeping away from her, his decision would be almost as easy as it had been before they met. “He may have done bad things in the past, but no one’s perfect. We just need to be able to move on.”

“If you haven’t gathered it already, that’s not something Killian is particularly good at.” Jukes stated with a bitter smile. “And, from what I’ve gathered from you, it’s not a skill of yours either. I think both of you have things you need to work through, to move past, and this might not be my place, but I think you’ve helped each other start doing just that.”

Eyes wide, Emma felt as if the room was getting smaller, Jukes’ admission causing a wave of realisation to crash down upon her. Hook may have been seeking revenge for hundreds of years, but she had clung just as tightly to the feelings Baelfire had left with her.

She had to get out of there, had to get away from Jukes before he said anything else, and she almost made it, was almost out of the door, when he spoke again. “You need to figure out what’s important. If he does go through with this plan, do you really want to spend your last days together this far apart?”

~~~*~~~

_She reached for him when she awoke, wanting to feel his arms around her before he had to run, before he could get caught, but the bed was empty. She forced her eyes fully open, blinking furiously until she got used to the sunlight streaming in through the windows, and then turned to look at the rumpled sheets._

_Maybe the light woke him and he left before anyone had the opportunity to find him._

_But the bed was too cold._

_Too empty._

_She scrambled up, sheet clutched to her chest. He would have left a note, he wouldn’t have wanted to leave her to wake up alone, not without giving her a reason why._

_There was nothing._

~~~*~~~

She was thinking too much. She didn’t want to be thinking at all, desperate to distract herself as she rummaged through the drawers under the bed, not searching for anything in particular. The soft lullaby was playing from the music box as she curled up by the side of the bed, untangling the pile of scarves that had, until now, been stuffed in the back corner of an almost-empty drawer.

She had almost separated all of the scarves, a luminescent turquoise one hanging from her fingers, when there was a sharp knock on the door. Emma remained where she was, twisting the silk between her fingers, eyes locked on the closed door.

“Emma?” It was Hook. She fought the urge to go to him, still undecided about what she was going to do, Jukes words on a loop in her brain. “I want to speak to you. Please.”

She swallowed, twisting the scarf even tighter around her fingers. “I can hear you through the door.” she bit out, and she heard a bitter chuckle in response.

“As you wish.” he murmured, and she heard a quiet thump, as if he had leant his head against the door. “Look, Emma, I’ve been wanting vengeance for Milah for over 300 years and I was happy with the idea that killing Rumplestiltskin would be my final act. Honestly, Emma, I’ve been alive for so long, I didn’t think that there was anything worth experiencing left. I didn’t believe that I could find anything else that I wanted to live for. Until I met you.”

She couldn’t breathe, folding the scarf up neatly and placing it back in the drawer, resting her hands over her thumping heart and locking her gaze on the door. He was just there, just behind the door, and all she had to do was open it.

The silence was stifling as Emma forced herself back to her feet and stumbled towards the door, freezing when she laid her hand on the doorknob, uncertain what she would say to him, if he was still outside, and the thought that he may have walked away made her hesitate, not wanting to open the door and find that he had walked away.

And then he spoke again.

“I wish that it wasn’t an end. I want it to be a beginning. Once Rumplestiltskin is dead, I can finally move on.” There was another silence, this one as pressing as before. “And I want to move on, Emma. I want to move forward.”

This time, she could hear the creaks as he slowly walked away, and without a thought, she pulled the door open, releasing a shuddering breath when she saw his back to her. It felt instinctive to dart forwards, to loop her arms around him in an attempt to keep him with her, burying her face between his shoulders. He let out a tremulous breath and she relaxed when she felt him lay his hand on one of hers.

“You have a choice.” she muttered, ignoring the slight shake of his head in response. “Maybe you think you don’t deserve a future and maybe that’s why you insist on thinking you have no other option, why you won’t even consider trying for a future.” His hand dropped away from hers and she felt him stiffening, his breath unsteady. “I know you’ve done bad things, but I don’t care. Ever since I’ve met you, you’ve been so amazing.” Emma hesitated, the words Jukes had said resurfacing, and she swallowed nervously. “You may be a pirate, but that doesn’t mean you’re not a man of honour.”

Hook seemed to stop breathing, his entire body freezing for a brief moment before he prized her arms away from him and turned to face her, looking utterly wrecked as he gazed at her, her name escaping his lips in a whisper. “What do you want, Emma? What do you want me to say?”

Emma trembled slightly, the question too loaded for her to fully answer. She wanted too many things and she couldn’t focus on all of them at once. Struggling to form a response, she watched as Hook raised his hand to her face, his thumb softly caressing her cheek, the conflict in his eyes a mirror of her own. “I don’t know what I want.” she sighed. “I just, well, I guess I thought that you would be the person who would never leave me.”

Hook’s jaw clenched and he looked down at the floor as he appeared to struggle for a response. “I don’t have a choice, Emma.” he ground out. “If I don’t kill Rumplestiltskin, don’t avenge Milah, then why have I forced myself to live through the past centuries? After so long, I can’t give up.”

“You have given up.” she whimpered, searching desperately for something that may be able to convince him, give him a reason to stop waiting for his death. She looked at him, his head bowed and his shoulders slumped, and she realised that she couldn’t bear the thought of losing him. They had known each other barely two months but his presence had become a necessity. Even though they hadn’t been talking, she had known he was there, known he was within reach if she needed him, and the thought of that changing made her step backwards and run her hands through her hair.

And then she knew.

Determined, she moved back towards him, taking his face in her hands and forcing him to maintain eye contact, his narrowed eyes making her smile brightly at him. “You can’t die, Killian, because I want to have a future with you. I want it to be you and me and Henry. What we talked about, travelling the realms together, I want that more than _anything_. And you, you want that too, don’t you? We can have that.” She kept her gaze locked with his, her smile faltering slightly when he tilted his head and bit his lip, tongue darting out, as usual, to sooth them. He looked incredulous, more hopeful than she had ever seen him, and she laughed delightedly when he reached out and pulled her into his arms, his hook resting at the small of her back. Her arms automatically wrapped around him in return and she sank into him when she felt a warm kiss at her temple. “We can have _everything_ , Killian.”

“Gods, Emma.” He breathed, shifting his head so that he could nuzzle closer to her. Their eyes were still locked, her eyes only fluttering closed when she felt another kiss, this time by the corner of her eye, followed by a light kiss to the tip of her nose, and then a series of quick, adoring kisses placed wherever he could reach, the only place remaining untouched being her lips. “I never-” Whatever he intended to say was cut off by a breathless, exhilarated chuckle that he seemed unable to keep quiet and Emma took the interruption as an opportunity to press a kiss of her own to his jaw. “I never thought you would want that too. I thought that I wanted it too much for it to be possible.”

“It won’t be possible.” she murmured, feeling his arms tighten around her, as if he couldn’t bear to hear what she was saying. “Not if you’re dead.”

“Well, maybe I should return to my research for the last week we have on board. I could have missed something.” Hook muttered, another kiss, this one lingering, pressed just by the corner of her mouth. “I hope I’ve missed something.”

It was the best she could hope for, and despite everything that had just happened between them, she knew he could not simply drop his revenge, the one thing he had used as a driving force for centuries, and he was giving her the time, the opportunity to finally change his mind. With a soft smile, she pushed away from him, another laugh escaping when he swayed after her, trying to remain as close to her as they had just been. “I’m not kissing you, Killian.” she told him, unable to contain a mischievous grin. “Not yet. I want to give you something to live for.”

Hook rolled his eyes, but rocked back on his heels, the distance between them making her feel cold. “You know how to motivate a man, Swan.” he said, a lascivious wink sent her way before his expression softened into something that made her feel cherished, adored. “I suppose I’ll see you for breakfast. You know how much I enjoy it when you’re wearing my shirt.”

She laughed again. Before he could walk away, she tugged him back towards her to give him a clumsy kiss on his cheek, enjoying being free to express all the affections that she had kept hidden, even from herself, and knowing he returned the sentiment. “Good night, Killian.” she muttered, glad to see that he look as deliriously happy as her, the only sign that his revenge was still haunting him being a slight darkness in his eyes. “Sleep well.”

~~~*~~~

Admittedly, Emma had panicked about her sudden confession as soon as she returned to her room, but all her nerves had been vanquished the following morning when Hook joined her for breakfast, the two of them slipping back into their old routine with an ease she hadn’t expected. In fact, the only change from their previous time together was that they were far more affectionate with one another, and far more careful to avoid the issue of the upcoming confrontation with Rumplestiltskin.

In fact, their final week aboard the Jolly Roger had sped by, Hook’s moods darkening slightly as the two of them remained unable to find any new solution to their problem. Emma remained hopeful, believing her insistence that there was a way of keeping Hook from suffering the same despair he had endured before.

And then, before it could sink in, the Jolly Roger had arrived at the final port. Hook had taken a large sack, filled with things for the trip, insisting on carrying Emma’s few personal belongings himself, the music box wrapped carefully within the swan-feather cloak.

Emma had followed Hook off the ship, standing beside him as he glanced around the small port town, seemingly intent on examining every small aspect of the town, from the timber framed convent bordering the promenade to the small red-brick shops that lined the quayside. She sent him a questioning look, instinctively positioning herself on his right side so that he could lace his fingers with hers. “What are you looking at?”

“That convent.” he answered, gesturing with their joint hands at the well-maintained building and then tugged her closer to his side. “That’s where I grew up, where I stayed until Liam found me. It’s changed a lot in the past two centuries. Doesn’t really look the same anymore.”

“I think that’s what happens over time.” she told him, nudging him gently and beaming at him when he finally looked away from the buildings and met her eyes. “But it’s a nice place.”

He smiled at her, tugging at her hand as he started to lead her through the cobbled streets towards the dark trees she could see in the distance. “No need to hang around though, love.” He told her, his grin faltering slightly and fumbling slightly when he continued speaking. “I thought we decided to try and move on from the past.”

“Moving on is different to forgetting.” Emma stated, glancing back at the convent as they passed it and trying to picture a young Hook spending his days looking at the ocean. It was only when the convent had become too distant that she turned back around, Hook swinging their arms slightly as he led them into the green shadows of Sherwood forest.

The forest was vast, the scenery getting repetitive as they ducked under branches and leapt over tree roots, but Emma couldn’t find it in herself to get tired of their journey. With her hand in Hook’s and the frequent grins he sent her way, she only felt a sort of exhilaration, occasionally darting close to Hook and playfully kissing whatever part of his face she could reach as he tried to lead her through Sherwood, halting whatever inane conversation they were having and letting him return the favour.

Her feet were aching but she ignored it. It was only now sinking in that she was mere days away from finding her son again, from possibly having the future she had spoken about with Hook, and she couldn’t stop the excited smile from spreading across her face. She remembered the fears she had once had, about failing in her attempt to retrieve her son, to have her family back, but with Hook by her side, all her doubts had left her and all she felt was confidence that together they couldn’t fail.

Once it became difficult to see particularly far ahead, she felt Hook pull her to a stop, feeling his chest vibrate with a chuckle as she stumbled into him. “No point continuing any further.” he stated, carefully placing the sack on the ground and scanning their surroundings. “Sherwood is not a place you travel through in the dark. Power attracts power and this forest is crawling with distasteful folk.”

Emma couldn’t help but shiver at his words, watching as he reached into his sack and unfolded the cloak, delicately placing the music box back in a swath of fabric before moving to drape the cloak over her shoulders, arranging it around her and finishing with a quick kiss on the forehead. “So are we just going to sit on the ground and wait for morning?”

“I have to admit that was my plan.” he explained with a shrug, leading her over to a tree root and telling her to make herself comfortable. “I do apologise for the lack of an actual bed, something I’m certain a princess like you is unused to.”

Emma laughed, shifting over so that there was room for Hook to settle down next to her. “In case you’ve forgotten, I was sleeping between crates when we first met.” she pointed out, patting the space beside her when Hook didn’t immediately join her.

“I’d never forget our first meeting.” he stated, squeezing in next to her and waiting for her to move so that the two of them were more comfortable, his arm wrapping around her waist and pulling her closer to him. She fidgeted, ignoring his curious look as she undid the cloak and pulled it away from her body, draping it instead over the two of them before finally relaxing fully against him. Once her whole weight was resting against him, he wheezed loudly and Emma turned to face him, rolling her eyes at his mischievous grin and waggling eyebrows.

“I’m not that heavy.” she commented with a soft chuckle, but moved away regardless, enjoying the way he gently pulled her back towards him, pressing another kiss to her skin, this time at the junction between her neck and her shoulder.

“We should sleep.” he murmured into her skin, and she nodded in agreement. “We’ll be woken up once the sun starts to rise and we’ll be walking all day tomorrow as well.” She felt his smile when she reached down to rest her hand over his, snuggling even closer towards him before yawning. “Like I said, love, go to sleep.”


	12. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! Hope you all enjoy this chapter! Thanks to everyone who commented, left kudos, or bookmarked this story! And of course, a big thanks to my beta HawkEye733!
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I don't own OUAT or the related characters!

# Chapter 11

Emma woke up with a shiver, Hook’s arms no longer wrapped around her and for a brief moment, she panicked. He wouldn’t have left her, especially not alone in Sherwood Forest, but she had been expecting to awake to his embrace and yet only the Swan-Feather Cloak was keeping her warm.

“You slept for longer than I was expecting.” She turned towards the voice, a relieved smile spreading across her face when she saw Hook only steps away, rummaging through the burlap sack and staring at her, looking almost as if he were besotted.

But he couldn’t be.

Emma started to get up, wanting to go to him, but she paused when she felt the ache in her back, a tightness that had surely come from the awkward position they had slept in, and a soft groan fell from her lips. Hook raised an eyebrow before abandoning the sack and closing the small gap between them, offering his hand to her as assistance. He helped her stumble to her feet, his fingers lacing with hers once she was stood in front of him. “I want to assure you that, had that tree not been the most uncomfortable resting place I’ve ever experienced, I would not have left your side until you had awoken.” he murmured, and Emma glanced up at him, her eyes widening at how he must have noticed her short panic. He smiled warmly at her, dipping his head to brush a kiss to her cheek before releasing her to adjust the cloak around her. “It’s cold today, darling.”

She raised an eyebrow at him, his newfound need to take care of her a surprise. She hadn’t felt anything like this before, not from anyone other than her parents, and she couldn’t suppress a faint blush from staining her cheeks. He noticed, of course he noticed, but said nothing, simply reaching down into the sack again and rummaging through it, pulling out the translucent blue scarf she had held during their time spent avoiding one another.

“What’s that for?” she asked, reaching out to brush her finger against the silk, remembering how she had slid the material through her fingers, listening to Hook’s confession through the closed door of the Captain’s cabin.

“It’s for you.” he answered, carefully draping the scarf around her neck. “It’s something I’ve had for a long time and I feel that now is the time to use it.”

“It’s a scarf.” she murmured, her gaze locked on him as he pulled her into a short, loose embrace. “What do you mean, use it?”

“It’s more than a scarf. I was given it a decade or so ago, by a close friend of mine.” he began, offering her his hook as he stepped away, the burlap sack held in his good hand. He watched her, and she knew from his closed, apprehensive expression that he was waiting to see what she was going to do. She smiled softly, her hand wrapping around the cool metal without even a moment’s thought. Hook exhaled shakily, but didn’t comment, continuing with his story as if nothing monumental had even happened. “It’s from another realm and he told me it could be used to protect me, to allow me to escape from someone should I ever feel the need. All you have to do is throw the scarf behind you, and whoever you are running from should be delayed. Not that I’ve tested it, but I trust the man.”

“And you’re giving it to me?”

“I’ve told you before, Emma. This forest is dangerous and Rumplestiltskin is not the only sorceror here. If anything happens, you use it and you run. You get your son back and you stay safe.” he halted, dropping the burlap sack to the floor and reaching out to cup her face in his hand. “You have to be safe.”

“I can take care of myself.” she breathed, although his insistence on her safety created a warmth that spread through her entire being.

“I know you can. Just think of it as insurance, just in case we get into more trouble than we anticipate.” he stated, his thumb lightly caressing her cheek. “There’s no need for both of us to die.”

She stopped breathing for a moment, unable to catch her breathe when the weight of everything returned to her. He was still going to die, he was still planning on this journey being the last thing they did together, and she almost pulled away again, the thought of him not being there, not being with her, making her want to curl up again, to hide from the possibility, to pretend that everything would be okay.

She couldn’t do that. Knowing that this journey was it, was the end, meant that she had to take advantage of every moment together, make this trip something she could always treasure. She knew what it was like to suddenly lose someone, knew that, had she known Baelfire would leave her, she would have made every moment count, and she had to do the same for Hook. She _needed_ to.

And yet, she knew somehow that if she kissed him, really kissed him, everything would be over. He would have a piece of her heart that she would never get back and she couldn’t risk that.

She swallowed, forcing herself back to attention and smiling awkwardly at him, his worried, despairing expression making her think he knew exactly what had been passing through her mind. “And here I thought you were simply trying to keep me warm,” she forced out, wanting them to return to the light-hearted, affectionate atmosphere they had enjoyed the day before. He blinked at her, and she reached up towards him to press a warm kiss to the tip of his nose. “If anyone needs something to keep them warm, it’s you. Your nose is bright red.”

He laughed, but it sounded as forced as her teasing had, his hand dropping from her face and grasping the sack once more. “Well then, we ought to keep going. We don’t all have a feather cloak to wrap up in.”

~~~*~~~

The next few days spent trekking through the forest were divided between playful moments and a heavy silence, Emma’s mind occasionally too intent on their upcoming separation for her to play affectionate. Her steps would falter, the distance between them widening as she considered the death that would put an end to everything. Hook would stop and look back at her, the despair in his eyes a mirror of her own for only a second, and then he would smile softly and reach for her, using his hook to carefully raise her hand to his mouth for a lingering kiss, each kiss feeling more like a goodbye than the one before.

But Emma would simply curl her fingers tighter around the metal and let him continue leading her through the forest. She saw that he too was as devastated by their future. She could only believe that if he felt anything as powerful as she did, then each step they took towards the Dark One became that much harder, the decision that may have once seemed easy to him becoming near impossible.

She just wished she could glean from his expressions whether these were his thoughts, if he actually wanted the same things as her.

And every night, no matter their mood, Hook would wrap the cloak around the both of them, his arms warm around her waist, and they would sleep.

~~~*~~~

Her feet hurt. Five days had been spent walking through Sherwood, breaking only for sleep and food, and Emma felt aches through her entire body. Her feet were worst, but constant rests against trees only relieved the pain briefly and were unpleasant for her back. Hook seemed as weary as her, but also equally determined, and insistent that she would not carry the burlap sack, even though it was lightening by the day.

Conversations had stopped almost entirely, the silence comfortable as they walked together, her hand loose around his wrist. Only at times, when the sun was fading and a darkness was filling the forest, did the silence become eerie, the two teasing one another awkwardly in an attempt to keep foreboding thoughts at bay.

But Hook had told her that the trip would only take a week, and with each night, she held him tighter, wanting to speak about what he intended to do, try harder at changing his mind, but she didn’t want her insistence to push him away. As much as she couldn’t bear the thought of his plans, she knew it was ultimately his choice, something he had been working towards for hundreds of years. She had only known him a couple of months, and she was almost certain that such a short time together could never compare to a vendetta longer than many lifetimes.

And yet, she was positive that their connection, forged only weeks ago, was stronger than any she had felt before.

She took a deep breath and then halted, her fingers clenching around Hook’s arm when he continued to walk, waiting for him to turn around and meet her gaze.

“Do you have a plan?” she asked, her stare hardening when he simply blinked at her. “For killing Rumplestiltskin? I don’t think simply striding in there will be much help. He’s the Dark One, he’ll be protected from people who want to kill him. And if he isn’t, then I don’t think it’s because of a lack of foresight. He knows just how hard it is for anyone to kill him.”

“I do have an idea.” he admitted, seeming almost reluctant. “When you go in, when you find Henry, I was considering taking it as a distraction. He wanted your son for a reason, and I doubt he will simply let Henry go. When he confronts you, I’ll take his dagger and then it’ll be over. And if he dares to try and harm you, his death will just arrive faster.” He spat out the last words, a dark look crossing his face as if the mere thought of Rumplestiltskin threatening Emma caused him too much pain, made him too angry. He faltered for a moment, Emma’s free hand reaching up to rest gently on his cheek as she tried to calm him, comfort him. “Of course, I hate to ask such a thing of you, to put you in such danger, but-”

“Rumplestiltskin took my son, Killian.” she murmured, his name reserved for moments like this, for moments where reassurance was needed, when she needed to show him just how much she cared without stating it in so many words. His name was all she needed to say, and she was certain he knew what she meant whenever she said it. “I want him gone. But too many things come with a price, and if the price of killing Rumplestiltskin is losing you too, then you know I think it’s too much. He’s not worth it. Not to me.” Hook opened his mouth, ready to speak, but she shifted her thumb to brush against his lips, his short breaths warm against her skin, and he remained quiet. “But if you think that it is worth it, then it’s your decision and… well, I will help you.”

“If it’s too dangerous, I won’t let you do it.” Hook said quickly, insistently, his focus solely on her, his eyes wide with what looked to be a mixture of astonishment and adoration. “If he tries anything more than talking, I won’t let him. I guarantee that no matter how dangerous it may sound, no harm will come to you or your boy.”

She wanted to ask more questions, wanted to know what exactly would happen once the dagger was in his hand, but he looked so concerned, so earnest, that all she could do was pull him towards her and hold him tightly, his hook resting at the small of her back and his good hand dropping their supplies so that he could tangle his hand in her hair and tug her even closer. She smiled into him, dropping a short kiss against the crook of his neck and enjoying the way his breath stuttered at the action. “I know you don’t want me to get hurt.” she muttered, lips brushing his skin with each word but leaving the remainder of the sentence unsaid. No matter how well he protected her from Rumplestiltskin, there were more ways she could be hurt. Despite all his precautions, he hadn’t considered that their journey was destined to end with her being left behind.

After a few more minutes, Emma tried to step away, but Hook held her tightly for just a bit longer before dropping his arms to his sides and glancing around them, his eyebrows furrowed in suspicion. “What is it?” she asked, following his gaze. “Is there something here?”

“Perhaps.” He passed her the sack, surprising her when she realised it was far lighter than she had expected, and drew his sword with his good hand. “You know the plan, love. Anything happens, you run.” His hook brushed gently over the scarf, reminding her of what he had told her only days ago, and then he began a slow walk deeper into the forest.

They were both silent, the orange glow of sunset filtering through the trees, and Emma tried to listen out for something, any indication that someone was following them, but their own footsteps were too loud, the dead leaves covering the forest floor making it impossible to hide their position.

They kept walking once the darkness had fallen, both of them deciding that they wouldn’t rest until they were certain that no one was following them, that they were safe. But she could feel something watching them, had felt that way ever since Hook had made her aware of his own suspicions, and she simply blinked when an old woman materialised before them, a weak swirl of brown smoke indicative of the powers she possessed.

Hook raised an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed by the witch’s sudden appearance, his sword held loosely in his hand as he shifted in front of Emma, blocking her view of the witch. “I believe it’s in your best interest to step aside.” he warned, looking back at Emma when the woman refused to move away.

“Did you think no one knew you were in here?” she rasped, and Hook simply shrugged.

“I was well aware of all the pathetic characters taking shelter near the Dark One.” Hook spat at her, Emma remembering his many warnings that power drew others to it, that Sherwood Forest was not safe, and she regarded the witch slightly more cautiously. “It was bound to happen after Robin Hood’s retirement. Honestly, I had hoped the standard of such villains would be higher. You don’t even seem like a threat.”

The witch snarled and Emma held in a groan. As weak a witch as she appeared to be, she highly doubted it was a good idea for Hook to be provoking her, and she reached out to lay a hand on his arm, to keep him from doing anything impulsive.

“I have enough power to stop you. We’re not here for shelter, we’re here for the power the Dark One can give us.”

“You’re simply a pawn for the Dark One to use, something to delay anyone trying to reach him.” Hook laughed harshly, a sound Emma had never heard escape him before. “And you may delay us, but don’t think you can stop us from reaching him. You’re nothing. And you can’t stop us.” It seemed Hook had said too much, the witch drawing her hand back and launching a small ball of fire towards them. She missed, Hook’s harsh laugh deepening as the tree behind them was set aflame, the heat beating against their backs, but both of them unharmed. “I can see why he trusts you with such power. Terrifying, truly.”

“Hook.” Emma murmured, sighing in relief when her voice seemed to catch his attention and his head tilted towards her. “You’re wasting time. Stop antagonising her.”

“Listen to her.” the witch snarled. “You think that was the power the Dark One gave me? You don’t need power to hurt someone, to keep them away. You need knowledge and that’s what the Dark One has given me. If you were so desperate to get to him, to kill him, you would have killed me by now. But you’re hesitating. You know killing the Dark One won’t change anything. It won’t bring Milah back and won’t help you move on. All you’re doing is walking towards your own death, and you want me to delay you because every moment spent here is a moment when you don’t have to think about what you’re planning to do...and what you’re planning on giving up to do it.”

Emma’s eyes widened and her grip on his arm tightened, watching as his jaw clenched and he sent the witch a look of utter hatred. To her surprise, he turned away from the witch, the anger in his face vanishing once he met her stare. “Emma, go.” he stated, his voice hard and at odds with the expression on his face. “Take the music box and get to your son. Use the scarf, stop her from following you.”

“And what? Leave you behind?” she replied, aware of the witch listening to the entire conversation, unsure why she was allowing them this time. “That’s not going to happen. Not now. Not today.”

“You’re not leaving me behind, you’re going ahead.” he whispered, pressing a lingering kiss to the corner of her mouth. “I will find you again. After all, I have yet to kiss you.”

Emma swallowed, the declaration causing a shiver to run through her body, the words familiar from her parents often repeated tale of their own love, and she couldn’t move, couldn’t leave him, not when he was saying things like that. Hook rolled his eyes and undid the scarf from around her neck, pushing her suddenly past the witch and throwing the scarf to the ground just behind her.

The ground rumbled, a crack separating Emma from Hook and the witch, the shaking earth causing Emma to stumble and fall, Hook calling out her name and running to the edge of the crevasse now separating them. A rush echoed through the forest, water tumbling from nowhere and filling the gap between them, the current too strong for anyone to cross. Emma’s hand flew to her neck, the idea that this force had come from the thin scarf almost unbelievable.

She raised her eyes back up to see Hook, equally as astonished as her, standing on the other side of the river, the witch behind him shimmering as if the air was too hot, and she wanted to yell out, to warn him something was happening, but Hook spoke first.

“Well, that’s quite an obstacle.” he stated with a twisted smile, completely distracted from the danger at his back. “But don’t worry, my love, this river won’t keep me from you. Now go. Get Henry!”

He was so desperate, so insistent, that she clambered back to her feet, stumbling away from him but keeping her gaze on him, wanting to see him for as long as she could. A coldness swept through her when she saw the witch stop shimmering, no longer the withered old woman that had spoken to them, but a woman she recognised, had seen in the drawings in Hook’s room.

Milah.


	13. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I wrote this one fast! I hope you all enjoy this, and thanks to everyone who commented, bookmarked or left kudos! I really appreciate it. And huge thanks to HawkEye733, because editing this took quite a while!
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I don't own OUAT or the related characters.

# Chapter 12

Emma wanted to run back, to stand by his side when he confronted that witch, unsure how he would even react to the witch’s new form. She doubted he would react positively, but she was uncertain how much a glimpse of Milah would affect his judgement. It had been so long since he had seen her, his only images of Milah the charcoal drawings in his room, and she would understand if the sight of her caused him to flounder, to forget.

But he was still watching Emma, and she could sense that he wouldn’t look away from her until he knew she had gotten away, and the thought that he would be too distracted by her to prepare for whatever was coming made her decision for her, and she continued further into Sherwood.

And when she next looked back, there were too many trees for her to catch a glimpse of him.

For a moment, she considered that, despite his determination, the moment they had just shared could be the last time they were together, and the thought made her trip again, her vision blurring with tears. That couldn’t be their last moment, their time couldn’t end so suddenly, without any warning, and yet she knew well enough that that was how most things seemed to end.

She swallowed, blinking the tears away before any fell, and pushed herself up on to her knees, her hands tingling with pain and her ankle aching. It didn’t hurt too much to stop her walking, but she didn’t want to go forward. She wanted to wait, to make it easy for him to find her once his confrontation with the witch, with Milah, whoever she was, was over. So instead of getting up, she dragged herself to the base of the nearest tree and curled up in it, trying to brush mud off of her, now beige, cloak, and resenting how much she missed Hook’s steady presence behind her, not used to relaxing anymore without his arms around her.

When had he become so necessary?

She tried to calm down, to stop thinking about everything, but instead his final words to her seemed to run on repeat through her mind. ‘I’ll find you’, ‘My love’, ‘You have to be safe’. They had barely been apart for minutes but the idea that she would never see him again, that maybe he wouldn’t find her, choked her, forcing her to bury her head in her cloak until until those feelings were under control.

Emma didn’t cry. Not over things like this.

A wavering sigh escaped her lips and she leant her head back against the tree, listening out for any sign of how the confrontation was going, but all she could hear was the faint rush of the new river, and she cursed the scarf for putting such distance between them. Whatever Hook was facing, whatever the woman was saying to him, she was certain that it couldn’t be easy for him.

Unless even an illusion of Milah was enough.

She curled up even tighter. Emma wasn’t an overthinker, or at least she liked to think she wasn’t, but she couldn’t stop _thinking_. Couldn’t stop remembering every moment they had spent with one another, their meals together, the way he would trap her between himself and the helm and pretend she needed help navigating, the way he would look at her every morning when he found her dressed in his old black shirt, how overjoyed he had looked when she had taken his face in her hands and told him that she wanted everything.

And then he had gone and said that he would find her. He couldn’t know it, but those words meant too much to her. She knew, far too well, the story of how her parents had met, of their insistence to find one another despite everything, and how they had just known that they were true love. She had never seen anyone else as in love as her parents, as determined to always find each other, always be together, and Hook had said those words, had said them so sincerely that her breath had stopped and all she could see was him.

Even more, he had shouted to her over the river, the endearment of ‘my love’ only a slight change from what he regularly used, but important enough for her to fret about. He _couldn’t_ love her. She would have used the same arguments she had told herself before - that she simply wasn’t lovable, only her parents could love her - but he was affectionate enough with her for her to, for the first time, truly believe that someone cared for her. Yet love, such a small word, was now too overwhelming for her to consider.

She _knew_ love. Saw it on her parent’s faces every day, recognised it within Hook when he spoke of Milah and his desperation for revenge, and she couldn’t believe that it would be possible for Hook to love someone else. His devastation over Milah’s death, his inability to move on despite living for hundreds of years, was surely an example of another phrase her father loved, that true love can never be replaced.

And if, by some happy twist of fate, he cared for her as much as she was discovering she cared for him, then he would have to stop his vendetta, have to know what his leaving would do to her, and be unable to bear hurting her that way.

It was why she couldn’t beg him to end his hunt for revenge. He wanted it so desperately, insisted he would only be at peace with the Dark One gone, that she couldn’t force that away from him. His needs, his wants, were far more important to her than her own.

That was another thought that led to a broken sob, her hands twisting the cloak tightly as she tried to remain calm. She wanted him back, she wanted to be a family, she wanted to cross realms and see worlds, everything he had told her, she wanted desperately. And if she couldn’t have that, she would be more than happy to just have him and her son, either on the Jolly Roger or in the west wing of the royal castle. She couldn’t imagine ever being completely happy without him. Not anymore.

She _would_ be happy enough with Henry at her side.

Refusing to allow the last thought to leave her mind, she forced herself back to her feet, wobbling unsteadily with the first few steps. It was dark, too dark for her trek to be safe, but with only a small knife tucked in her boot, she thought that it had to be safer to keep moving instead of sleeping and waiting for whatever else lay in the forest.

She was going slowly, focussing instead on Henry. She was so close to him, only a days walk from confronting Rumplestiltskin, from having her son back at her side. As much as she’d thought about her son, it was only without Hook at her side that she began to truly think about how to get Henry back in her arms. Had she truly believed in Hook so much that with him at her side, she had held no doubt that Henry would be reunited with her?

She knew the answer to that. She simply refused to hear it.

Instead she thought about what she already knew. Rumplestiltskin had been so insistent to take her son that he had refused any deals, had taken the boy away without giving her any option, and she would be a fool to think he would easily give Henry back. But she wasn’t prepared for anything, knew from her time on the Jolly Roger that even if she had been armed, she would have been helpless against the Dark One. If she could get hold of his dagger, she could command him to release Henry, to return him to her, but she shuddered at the thought of holding power over such a creature. She knew the stories of Rumplestiltskin, knew it was naive to think that he couldn’t think up a loophole, a way to trick the dagger back into his own hands, and then she would surely pay for trying to control him.

With the dagger in her hand, she could kill him, ensure Henry was with her, but she believed that she was incapable of such a deed, especially when there were so many other options. And she knew too much now, knew the price she would be forced to pay for such an action. She would become the Dark One, and with Henry by her side, her own death would be impossible, Hook’s plan too ridiculous when she had someone so important to live for. She would remain the creature Hook so detested, an imp concerned with deals and power and magic.

Another useless plan.

The only option that remained, her only other thought, was to make another deal, to find something Rumplestiltskin wanted so much that he would trade her son back to her. She knew nothing of such value, nothing as important as Henry.

She growled in frustration, stomping further through the forest, the sun now streaming through the leaves and dappling the ground. She had been walking for so long, was so much further than she had intended to go, and she halted, glancing around to see if there was anything nearby.

If Hook was nearby.

He wasn’t. And, as eager as she was to curl up by a tree and finally be overtaken by sleep, his parting instruction to find Henry was what was driving her. Scavenging a few familiar berries off nearby bushes, she continued, her pace slower.

Instead of thinking about all her possible ways of failure, she wanted to think of the future, of what would happen when she had Henry back, to finally face the nagging concern that she had buried.

What if he didn’t remember her?

Everyone in the world had forgotten him. Perhaps he was under a similar curse, unaware of her existence, his three months with Rumplestiltskin spent in oblivion. And yet, she believed in Henry, knew in the very core of her being, that if the music box had enough magic, enough love, to restore her memories, then for Henry it would do the same.

The main question was if everyone else would remember Henry when he returned with her. Ideally, everyone would realise the truth, would understand both her lack of suitors and her reluctance to get married, would know why she had left the castle, had left Graham, and abandoned the kingdom to war.

She wondered what would happen with Graham. She knew that the Queen’s promise of peace had been retracted following the missed wedding, and perhaps Graham had returned to her side. Or maybe he remained in the castle. He seemed to want peace, and she would not be surprised to find that he had stayed at the castle, attempting to negotiate a compromise that the Evil Queen would never concede to.

Perhaps there was still a chance to stop the war, if the offer still stood. Except Emma would no longer take such an offer. Not now that she finally knew just what she could have, what she could feel.

It was only when she was able to see turrets through the spaces in the trees that she realised how close she was to the Dark One, to her son, and despite an urge to run, to get to him as soon as she could, she halted. She had spent so long walking, unable to rest because of witches and rambling thoughts, that she felt utterly exhausted, her body seized with a stiffness she had never before experienced, and if she was going to face the Dark One, she knew she had to be as rested, as aware as possible.

She was so tired that even the tree trunk felt comfortable, the swan-feather cloak ensuring a deep warmth surrounded her, her gaze locked on the silhouette of what she knew had to be the Dark One’s castle, where Henry was.

And as much as she thought of Henry, her last thought before sleep was of Hook. Of how he had let her leave, surely knowing that if she reached Henry, if she saved Henry before Hook had found her again, his plan to stop the Dark One would become so much harder, almost impossible.

Maybe she was thinking too much, but maybe that simple action, letting her go ahead, to safety, was him choosing her.

~~~*~~~

Emma awoke to the bright rays of orange light that had scattered through the lower branches of the trees, the sunrise impossible to sleep through, and yet she was reluctant to start moving. It was still early, she was still tired and the longer she remained here, the greater the chance Hook would find her, would be with her again.

But she had been walking non-stop for a day, and after everything that had happened, she had no idea how far behind her Hook was. That was, if he was even looking for her.

She refused to believe he was injured, but a small, dark part of her thought that maybe he would have stayed with the witch, happy to live in a dream where Milah was still with him, where his revenge was no longer needed. That maybe he had given up his revenge, just not for her.

She shook the thought away. She was only hours away from her son. Today, she was being optimistic.

Almost as if the change of mind-set triggered a change in her luck, she heard a noise nearby. Someone was wandering through the forest, near enough to hear but too far away to see, and she struggled up to her feet, the cloak tangling in her hurry. She didn’t say anything, a hand resting against the tree trunk as she listened out, ready to run if it turned out to be danger and uncertain of what she would do if it wasn’t.

And then she heard him.

Her heart beat furiously in her chest, but she didn’t call out, uncertain if it was truly him or simply her desperation for him to be back at her side. And then she heard it again, her name, and it was definitely his voice, a short and muted bark as if he was trying to be furtive, and the hoarseness of his tone, the desperation, made her wonder how long he had been calling out for her.

She fell back into the tree, ‘I’ll find you’ running through her mind once more, and all the emotions she had slept away came rushing back - her uncertainty, her loneliness - and she couldn’t even respond. And then he called again.

“Killian!” she called back, her voice cracking and cloak pulled tightly around her, her last defense before he appeared and everything inside her escaped. She waited, refusing to entertain the nagging doubt in the back of her mind that she had been hearing things, and when he stumbled into view she sagged against the tree in relief. It was impossible to stop looking at him, her gaze drinking in every detail, his dark, tousled hair, the way his nose was pink with cold and how the moment his intense eyes met hers, they sparked with delight. At the sight of her he seemed to stop breathing before lengthening his strides and hurrying over to her side, a tender smile she had never seen him wear before appearing on his face, his lips, she noticed, were worryingly blue.

She was just so happy that he was with her, that he had kept his word, that it all hit her at once and overwhelmed her, a laugh bursting from her lips in a tangle of relieved emotions that flew straight to her head. At the same time she felt her eyes welling up, tears spilling over onto her cheeks. The ridiculousness of her reaction made her laugh more and she saw Hook’s hand halting only an inch from her, a panicked expression on his face.

“Emma, what’s wrong?” he asked, murmuring the words as if the world was not allowed to hear their conversation. “Please, _please_ don’t cry.”

“I’m not crying.” she stated stubbornly, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her hands and taking deep breaths until she stopped feeling so completely overwhelmed. “I’m not. I’m happy. I mean, I was, well, I was slightly concerned.”

“Concerned?” he asked, eyebrow twitching teasingly, although his hand finally moved the last inch and cupped her face, a shiver running through her when she felt how cold he was. “How could you even think that such a poor excuse for a witch could keep me away from you for long? Have a little more faith, sweetheart.”

“I saw her.” Emma told him, unable to meet his stare when she remembered all her worries from the previous day, of her belief that the witch could convince him to stay behind. “I saw her change.”

“To Milah?” he clarified, surprising her when he didn’t even falter, when the only thing that changed was that he looked at her slightly differently, looked at her in a way she couldn’t understand. “Emma, she could never keep me away from you.”

He wasn’t telling her everything. She could feel a small uneasiness spread through her, a sign that he was lying, but she couldn’t care. Maybe she didn’t want to know everything. Whatever had happened, whatever the witch had done, he was standing uninjured in front of her, he had found her, and even the image of Milah couldn’t keep him from her side.

The sight of the castle behind him made her think differently, if only for a second. Maybe he just couldn’t be kept from his revenge.

He noticed her shifting mood, his thumb brushing lightly over her cheek in an attempt to comfort her. “The worst part was that bloody river.” he told her, shivering to emphasise his words. “I’m so cold. But what’s a slight chill compared to being with you again?”

“Or to getting your revenge?”

She hadn’t meant to say that, but she wasn’t herself, she had been feeling too much, and she needed to hear reassurance, needed to know that he had chosen not to leave her. Hook simply rolled his eyes, looking exasperated, amused, at her questioning. “I’m going to hold you now, Emma. I’m absolutely freezing and your cloak looks particularly cozy.”

She searched his gaze for a few moments, hoping that the answer to her question would be found there, but there was no answer. Only that new, open look that was still confusing her, a look she was still unable to decipher. “Well, I suppose. If you must.” she breathed, relaxing immediately into him when he gently ran his hand down from her cheek, brushing along her arm before bringing it round her back and gently pulling her to him, his hook lightly tangling in her hair.

He was holding her tighter than he had before, cuddling her into his body and nuzzling his face into her hair, seemingly desperate to be as close to her as he could be. She was surrounded by him, clutching tightly back for a few seconds before running a hand up his back to stroke the nape of his neck. He exhaled slowly, keeping his hand anchored at the small of her back when she moved to lean away, his body following hers and keeping the distance between them almost non-existent. Something had changed, she could sense it, but with him so close, pressing cold kisses to everywhere within reach, she could only enjoy it.

“I have a request.” she hummed, his embrace making her feel too at peace with everything to think about what she was saying, words escaping her before she had a chance to consider them. Hook simply nodded, a warm, open-mouthed kiss pressed to the column of her neck. “Once you’ve killed the Dark One and you’ve taken his powers,” Hook flinched away from her at the thought, meeting her stare for only a second, his gaze surprisingly calm, before he busied himself with kissing up the length of her neck. “Don’t… just, true love’s kiss is worth a shot, right? There’s nothing to lose.”

Until she heard the words leave her own mouth, she hadn’t realised what she was going to say, and her hands dropped away from Hook, clenching into fists as she refused to look at him. Nothing to lose? For him, maybe, but either way, it was too much for her. If it worked, and with all her uncertainty, she thought that had to be a big if, then they were true love, and that was too big, too certain, to be nothing. Emma couldn’t even think about if it didn’t work.

She felt the ice of his hook under her chin, allowing him to tilt her head back so their eyes locked once more. He looked stupefied, enamored, and she calmed down, an easy smile spreading across her face when he lent down to rest his forehead on hers, their noses brushing, lips only just far enough apart so that they wouldn’t touch when he spoke. “I definitely think it’s worth a try.”

She hadn’t expected his sudden, confident response, and she couldn’t help it anymore, pressing closer in an attempt to close the distance between them, to finally kiss him, but he pulled away with a quick kiss to the tip of her nose and an elated chuckle. “What? Killian?”

“Now, Emma, I thought we agreed on no kissing until everything is done and your son is back at your side.” he told her, appearing wholly content when she simply rolled her eyes and pressed a final kiss to his jaw. “But I assure you, love, that kiss is going to be marvellous.”

 


	14. Chapter 14

# Chapter 13

Despite Hook’s insistence on not kissing her, not yet, they remained locked in their embrace for a few more minutes, Emma loving how warm and safe he made her feel, even though she knew that within an hour, she would be standing in front of Rumplestiltskin and would be nowhere near safe.

The thought of Henry was enough to make her untangle herself from Hook, adjusting her cloak and glancing over at the pirate to see if he looked as cold as when he had arrived. His lips were pinker, his nose just as red as before, but he seemed far less likely to freeze. Satisfied, she stepped past him, telling herself that if she just started walking, she wouldn’t be thinking that she was walking Hook to his potential death, even with his promise of attempting true love's kiss.

When he took her hand, lacing his fingers with hers and striding to her side, she felt some of her doubts melt away, his firm grip a reassurance that maybe she wouldn’t lose him after all, that their kiss would be powerful enough to remove the curse from him.

Maybe she had panicked the moment the suggestion had escaped her, but for once, Hook hadn’t tensed away, hadn’t grown angry and distant. He had simply beamed at her, looking so hopeful, so happy, that he had convinced her that her own suggestion wasn’t pointless, wasn’t impossible.

And walking together, their hands clasped tightly and steps in sync, she could forget where they were going and enjoy being next to him.

She smiled softly up at him when he raised her hand to his lips and pressed a soft kiss to her knuckles, his own smile similarly contented. “So, Swan,” he started, reaching around with his hook to nudge the cloak teasingly. “Tell me about your son. I’m about to meet the lad and all I know about him is his name.”

Emma laughed, his interest in her son creating a warm feeling that spread through her entire body. Speaking about Henry had been hard, the doubts she had about succeeding in getting him back making attempts to talk catch in her throat, but after everything, she knew Henry would be with her again, and she was hopeful that Hook would be there too. And if he was, he definitely needed to know more about Henry.

“He’s ten years old, so he asks everyone these ridiculous questions,” she started, a fond tone entering her voice as she reminisced. “He once asked my father what type of food would he use as a weapon, should he not be able to access his armory, and he just thinks every answer is so important. And my dad would just laugh, but then he’d have to answer because Henry wouldn’t stop asking until he knew.” Hook chuckled, Emma glancing over and using her free hand to gesture at his hook. “Expect some awkward questions about that. Henry is going to love it.” she told him, able to imagine how excited Henry would be to find out she had travelled on a pirate ship. “In fact, he’ll never leave you alone once he knows you’re a pirate. He collects little model ships, and he’s always wanted to learn how to actually steer one, because dad has no idea how to navigate or anything like that.”

The question had brought every single thing she loved about Henry to the forefront of her mind, and she couldn’t stop talking. She wanted Hook to know everything about Henry, the boy that she loved with every part of her being, and she wanted him to care for the boy too. He seemed to be listening intently, nodding at everything she mentioned, an amused grin crossing his face whenever she found herself gushing about Henry being particularly silly or adorable.

And before she could even process how much time had passed, they were standing in front of the large gates of the Dark One’s castle, laughter fading into an ominous silence, his hand tightening around hers. She glanced over at him, his jaw tensed and his eyes locked on the distant turrets. “So shall we go with your original plan then?”

“My original plan?” he repeated, seemingly unable to remember the details of his plan, a confused glint in his eyes when he turned to face her. “Oh, you mean, the distraction?”

“Well, what other plan were you thinking of?” she asked him, his uncertainty about his plan a stark contrast to his previous conviction. “You only told me that you wanted to take advantage of me distracting Rumplestiltskin. Did you have any others?”

He released her hand, angling her towards him and meeting her gaze, his brows furrowed in an intense stare. “Emma, I haven’t…I’m not...” He seemed to be floundering for words, a trait he had never demonstrated before, and she wanted desperately to know what he was trying to say. He bit his lip, tongue darting out briefly, before he sighed and shook his head. “Emma, I’m not going to let Rumplestiltskin harm you. Go in before me if you must, if you think it’s our best course of action, but just know that I will not wait long before I follow. He’s already killed one woman I loved, I’m not going to-”

He didn’t finish speaking, pulling her towards him and crushing her into his chest, holding her as if he never wanted to let her go, refused to let her enter the Dark One’s castle, and she heard him mutter in her ear. “Damn the fool who came up with this no kissing arrangement.”

She tilted her head towards him, chuckling slightly, her breath brushing against his ear when she replied “It’s all on you. I am more than willing for that idea to be thrown away.”

He shuddered and pulled back, and she grinned at him, the moment becoming bittersweet with the Dark One’s castle as its backdrop. She didn’t know what to expect in response, his gaze darting down to her lips and his hand clutching harder at her waist. “I’m going to keep to our original arrangement, even though it’s torture.” he spoke, and he sounded lighter than he had since their last night in the tavern, when she left him alone in Myrsina. “Because I want you to have no doubt that I will not be leaving you. I want you to be utterly certain that once we have dealt with everything in there, you will not be leaving without me at your side.”

Emma blinked up at him, the declaration something she had not expected, and as certain as she had felt before about her success, everything suddenly seemed brighter, as if there was no doubt they could fail. She tried to read him, to figure out how the challenge intended as compulsion to keep him alive had instead become a promise to her, and at that she drew back in astonishment. She knew what was different, what had changed in the way he looked at her. The darkness that was always present, always there, had faded. It was still there, she doubted it would ever fully leave, his past too scarring, but he seemed happier, more peaceful than he had ever looked before.

He kissed her temple before he let her go, something he seemed to do very regularly these days, and she stepped away from him, watching his hand reach out towards her, as if he wanted to hold her back, but knew she had to do this.

The gates of the outer walls opened for her.

It was clear Rumplestiltskin knew she was there, the next door opening each time she crossed the threshold of the one before, leading her through a maze of tapestries and decorative objects, and Emma couldn’t help but gawk at the golden fleece, creepy withered puppets and the small chipped cup, displayed as if they were all equally priceless.

She reached out to touch one, to see what made the cup so special, but a loud tutting made her pause, turning to see Rumplestiltskin himself framed in the doorway, Henry hiding behind him. “I wouldn’t touch that if I were you, dearie.” he sung, stepping closer towards her, a slight bounce in his walk. “Not if you want to negotiate.”

Emma drew her hand back, unnerved by his increasing proximity to her and the way her son was clinging to his side. “I’m not here to negotiate.” she bit out, forcing herself to look away from Henry and keep her eyes on the imp. “I’m here to take my son back and that’s _not_ something we can discuss.”

“Isn’t that a shame?” Rumplestiltskin purred, pushing Henry to the side as he took another great stride towards her, stood too close and reached one golden finger out towards her, as if he was going to touch her, but suddenly stopped, his finger barely an inch from the cloak. “Hmmm, better not.” he hummed, darting back a few steps with an unnerving giggle. “Now where would _you_ get such a thing?”

“What?” she muttered, thrown by his change of focus, but deciding to use it to her advantage, noticing with surprise that he maintained the same distance from her when she stepped towards Henry. Her son was watching with confusion, appearing more concerned for Rumplestiltskin than for her, and she realised that her suspicions had been right. He had no idea who she was.

Anger filled her, the lack of recognition on her son’s face making her step towards Rumplestiltskin, feeling her entire body shake with fury, the burlap sack in her hand dropping to the floor. “You can’t just take people’s children and make them forget!” she yelled, feeling a need to hurt the imp, something she knew was impossible but also certain it would be the only thing right now that would make her feel any better. “He may be related to you, but he is _not_ your family! You lost that chance when you abandoned your own son. You forced your own family away from you and you can’t take someone else’s from them just to try and get it back. He is _my_ son!”

She stopped, her voice gone with a click of the imp’s fingers, the rage on Rumplestiltskin’s face making her realise she had gone too far, said too much, and she turned towards her son, ignoring the turmoil on his face as she reached towards him, feeling almost certain that this was the end of everything.

And then there was a blur of motion, Hook throwing himself past her and forcing Rumplestiltskin to the floor. She couldn’t move, her eyes locked on the pirate and the frenzied punches he was throwing at the imp, high-pitched laughter escaping from the Dark One as he raised his own arm, to fight back or curse Hook, Emma wasn’t certain.

She didn’t want to watch, turning her back on the fight and running over to her son, refusing to acknowledge the way he backed away from her. “Henry,” she cried, her apparent knowledge of his name making him pause. “Please, I know you don’t remember me, but it’s me. Your mom. And I know it’s been three months and I should’ve been here faster but I couldn’t and please, you have to remember me.”

He seemed distracted by the fight going on behind her, seemingly concerned for his grandfather, and in a moment of desperation, Emma reached out, gently grabbing his chin and making sure he was looking at her, the sight of him making her want to cry in relief, even though she knew he was still oblivious to who she was.

“Wouldn’t I remember my own mother?” he asked, the same innocent tone he used whenever he asked his, usually ridiculous, questions. “If you had only been away for three months?”

 She inhaled shakily, his question making her want to turn back and hurt the Dark One for what he had done, but from the sounds of it, Hook was managing admirably in keeping him distracted. “I know it sounds mad, but please believe me. Henry, you have to believe me.”

He blinked, but she knew Henry, knew that look in his eyes, the questioning glint that always appeared when he wanted to ask a question, wanted to know more, and she swallowed. She could reach him, he was already doubting, and then, like a lightning bolt, the solution she had considered before reappeared in her mind. Stroking Henry’s face briefly, hoping to comfort him, she turned away, skirting around the two wrestling men to reach the sack and pulling the silver music box from it.

Immediately returning to Henry, she held out the box in front of her, watching with bated breath as he took the elegant box and turned the small key, winding it up with anticipation written over his face, the way it always used to be. She moved to help, hoping the lullaby would return his memories, her hand over his as he slowly opened the box, the tune singing out. She watched, waiting, and then he sagged, the box dropping from his hands and clattering against the floor, his arms wrapping around her waist. “I knew you’d come!” he cried, and her breath caught in her throat, as she reached down to carefully run a hand through her son’s hair, only breathing again once he snuggled closer. “I didn’t remember, but I knew. I knew you’d be here.”

She leant down to hold him tighter. He’s taller than he was before, but still small enough for her to have to bend down, which she didn’t realise she would be so grateful for, and for a brief moment, everything was alright.

And then she heard Rumplestiltskin giggle and her heart stopped. She didn’t want to look, didn’t want to know what’s happened, but she _had_ to, so she turned around. Hook was holding the dagger, his hand completely steady, the weapon at the Dark One’s neck, and Emma knew that it was time, that everything had been leading up to this moment.

Not wanting to see, Emma looked away, her arms tightening around her son, waiting for a sound, some noise that signalled Hook’s revenge being complete, a sign that the power of the Dark One had transferred away from the imp who had possessed it for so long into the pirate who had despised the idea of such magic.

And then she felt the cold metal of the hook brushing the base of her back, looking to see Hook, as handsome as ever, beaming down at her, the dagger held loosely from his hand. She blinked in confusion, looking around to see Rumplestiltskin lurking by the chipped cup, still alive. “What?” she asked, unable to comprehend what had happened. “Killian?”

But Hook didn’t reply, tucking the dagger into his belt and reaching out cautiously to lay a hand on Henry’s shoulder. “Lad?” he asked, the strange voice making Henry raise his head and look up at him. “Are you alright? Everything’s been a bit dramatic, hasn’t it?”

“Who even are you?” Henry asked, and it was so perfect, so Henry, that Emma burst into overjoyed laughter, shifting to take Hook’s arm and pull him closer towards them. She nudged the pirate when she felt him place a quick kiss just behind her ear, seeing how overwhelmed Henry looked by the sudden addition to the hug, how surprised he seemed by the easy affection between her and the unfamiliar man.

“How precious.” Rumplestiltskin snarled before Hook had a chance to answer Henry’s question, all attention drawn back to the Dark One. “Three hundred years and you haven’t changed. Destroying families really does come easily to you, doesn’t it, pirate?” Emma felt Hook tense, his hand dropping away from her son’s shoulder as he turned to face Rumplestiltskin. “I thought you and my wife were twue love and yet you refuse to kill me? You know how Milah hated _cowards_.”

He spat the last word, a cruel grin spreading across his face, and it was too much, Hook pushing himself away from them, despite Emma’s attempts to keep him anchored at her side, and stalking over to Rumplestiltskin, the dagger held in his hand once again. “Are you calling me a coward?” Hook hissed, his expression darker than Emma had ever seen it. “ _You_?”

He reached Rumple, shoving him back into the pedestal, the chipped cup wobbling precariously, and returning the dagger to the Dark One’s throat. Emma couldn’t look away, curling Henry into her so he was unable to see whatever Hook planned on doing, her breath shallow, scared. Rumplestiltskin seemed at ease with the weapon pressed against his throat, but Hook seemed oblivious, his own twisted smile crossing his face as he leant closer, the dagger breaking Rumplestiltskin’s golden skin. Rumplestiltskin gasped, but not in fear, instead turning a calculating smirk on Hook. “I may have forgotten to mention something.” he said, almost casually, his black eyes looking away from Hook and falling on Emma and her son. “Did you think I hadn’t noticed you sneaking your way in to my home? That I didn’t know you would be here? I _see_ the _future_. I knew you would come and take _my family_ from me.”

The last words were directed at Emma and she shot him a scathing look, tightening her hold on her son. She saw Hook glance over to her, his intent wavering only slightly before he glared at the Dark One once again. “Get on with it.” Hook hissed, the dagger pressing even harder into the Dark One’s skin. “I assure you, these last words are a courtesy that I do not have to give you.”

“You’ll be happy you did.” he trilled. “You see, I knew you were coming and so I prepared a little... precautionary spell. Now, if you kill me...you kill _Henry_.”

Emma felt the entire world fall apart around her, knees unable to hold her weight anymore as she collapsed to the ground, Henry still in her arms, still alive, but she had seen Hook’s darkness return since Rumplestiltskin’s provoking words, and for a moment she was uncertain about what was going to happen, how everything had suddenly come to this.

“Is this child’s life worth sacrificing for your ancient revenge?” Rumplestiltskin continued, his voice still a song. “I doubt your beloved Emma will feel the same once you’ve killed her son.”

There wasn’t even a moment’s hesitation. The dagger was pulled away, still hovering threateningly, but no longer pressed against the skin. “I have the dagger. I control you. Reverse it. Break the curse on Henry now.”

Rumplestiltskin shrugged. “I can’t.”

And then to Emma’s surprise, and clearly Hook’s as well, the dagger slipped from Hook’s fingers, his shock at Rumplestiltskin’s announcement causing him to lose his grip. He scrambled for it, but before he could catch it, Rumplestiltskin snatched it from the air and threw Hook aside with a triumphant flourish, a pleased smirk on his face when the pirate crashed into another pedestal and then lay still on the floor.

“Killian!” Emma yelled, dragging Henry with her as she ran to his side, Rumplestiltskin appearing instantly next to her. She bent down, her fingers hovering over his mouth until she felt a small puff of breath, relaxing slightly at the realisation that he was still alive.

“Don’t worry, dearie.” Rumplestiltskin said, reaching down to pry Henry away from her. Despite his restored memories, Henry went willingly, only shooting Emma a wary look before the Dark One chivvied him away, sending him from the room. “Your son was happy here. I’m certain you can get used to life without him.”

“Because you clearly managed without yours.” Emma mumbled, uncaring that he could hear her. “Now, tell me. How can this connection be broken? I’ll do anything.”

“Oh, I can break the curse.” Rumplestiltskin told her, punctuating the sentence with a giggle. “Just not right now. Specific ingredients are required, those that I don’t currently have in my collection. Wording really is everything.”

“So do that. Go get the ingredients and let me take my son home with me.” she forced out, dragging her fingers gently through Hook’s hair, the physical contact calming her slightly. “ _Please_.”

And then Rumplestiltskin tilted his head and leant towards her, a wicked sneer spreading across his face. “I’ll make you a deal.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To Be Continued In 'The Hat and the Heart'
> 
> I hope everyone enjoyed this fic - honestly, I can't believe the response it has had! The sequel will be up sometime within the next month but I have exams and things, so I can't guarantee anything. Thanks for all the kudos, bookmarks and comments! Big thanks to HawkEye733, the best beta ever!
> 
> DISCLAIMER: I don't own OUAT or the related characters.


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